


Almost Asleep

by vuas



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Dom/sub Undertones, Dominant Kylo Ren, F/M, Inappropriate Use of the Force, Inappropriate use of the bond, Loss of Virginity, Mildly Dubious Consent, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Size Difference, The Author Regrets Nothing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-07
Updated: 2018-05-09
Packaged: 2019-01-30 13:31:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 26,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12654522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vuas/pseuds/vuas
Summary: This is not what the bond is supposed to be used for, but Kylo can't bring himself to care.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The trailer did things to me. Bad things. If you need me I'll be curled in a ball of shame lmao.
> 
> This is my first half-assed fic in literally years so! Genteel critiques are very much appreciated.

The girl eludes him. Frustration burns like a knife in his chest each time she disappears, on the heels of either the traitor or the damned pilot. Sometimes his mother too. She scowls at him from across a battlefield, face pink with exertion, sneering at him in front of her little band of friends. She's like a fairy-tail; the brave little orphan from Jakku facing down evil Kylo Ren for the honor of the Resistance.

It almost makes him laugh. Her dreams are not quite the same story.

So he knows each time they meet, the color in her cheeks is not just from running and fighting, and he wonders if the others ever guess, if she ever stammers over his name with a flush and the memory of his cock inside her, her begging for it. So it's indecently funny, a great cosmic joke, and it’s probably because Kylo knows exactly how far that splotch of color high on her cheeks goes down: he's seen it on the fragile line of her neck and across her chest, the same color as her hard pink nipples when he catches them in his fingers at night. He likes the way her eyes water with desperation when he holds her in his lap and pinches them until she lets out soft cries, squirming and panting wetly into his cheek, halfway between begging him to stop and wanting him to push her harder.

Or at least, that’s how it goes when they sleep. During the day she bares her teeth at the bond and threatens to rip his throat out when he digs too deep in her head. He does the same, a knee-jerk reaction of viciously slamming the connection shut when she accidentally pries open his fears and memories.

But at night Rey is too physically exhausted from her training to keep up her end of their uneasy treaty, and she leaks into the cracks between the wall they’ve set up. Kylo finds her light an enigmatic, soothing balm, weakly batting her half asleep thoughts out of his head for a few minutes before succumbing, finding it easier to let them simply roll over him. It’s the way it’s meant to be, really. They’re fighting every second of every day to go against this new part of their biology, and it’s exhausting.

Rey’s thoughts are often kind–as if she can’t help but care about him, inspect his new bruises and scars, wincing when she finds his well of self hatred, dipping her hands in and trying to cup it, lift it out handful by handful. It’s a funny mirror of her own pain–the one she tries so hard to tamp down beneath the endless weight of her hope, as if attempting to suffocate her anger, squash it dead. Yet it's still there, bubbling beneath, and Kylo prods at it until she lets him see, shoving him back with a tidal wave of agony forged through loneliness. They are the same, him and her.

Kylo is addicted to the night time he spends with Rey. He feels better than he has in years, the strange antagonistic thrum that has been in him since childhood, the one that made Uncle Luke frown with worry has been quieted. Rey, he knows-because nothing is a secret between them now–can’t help but feel relief at his mind against hers, a kindred spirit of understanding for a little girl who had thought she was all alone.

The dreams start taking a turn for the physical not soon after they begin. At first only their consciousness had been intertwined, to the point that it’s difficult to separate themselves. Kylo isn’t sure if they can blame a single person for starting it, the very dangerous game they're playing, crossing lines without telling a soul.

So it begins like this: It’s like a phantom body, real and yet not, curled against his when he sleeps, the Jedi girl warm and small beside him. He can touch her with reverence the same way he would in real life, brushing a bare thumb against a warm freckled cheek, dipping to her hair, braided down her neck at night. He touches the strands that stick out, tugs on them slightly until her eyes widen at the ghost sensation.

Rey squirms, unused to physical touch. It startles her and she stiffens, the first few times, and she impresses upon him how strange it is, her little brow creasing. Kylo wants to laugh because he can’t imagine anyone resisting the urge to touch her, as beautiful as she is. He’s glad for it, though.

The strangeness of it all continues, and the night Kylo trails his fingers over the sharpness of her collarbone Rey squirms in a different way, canting her hips up and squeezing her thighs together with a puzzled, frustrated expression on her red face. She lets out a strangled noise when he does it again and Kylo is hit with a wave of need coming from the girl beside him; Rey’s thoughts are a tangled choir of the tightness in her stomach when she sees how big his hands are, how much she likes it when he’s too intense. And how she doesn’t understand, confused and sweetly frustrated, how badly she wants him to do something, anything, but not sure how to articulate what exactly.

And then Kylo realizes with a tilt of his head that she doesn’t _know_ –

Rey’s face goes red to the tips of her ears. A rush of images– other girls on Jakku, tugging the jackets of their suitors behind tents with a giggle, families with a gaggle of young children who would probably not all survive, a older woman’s sharp crack of laughter when a ragged Rey asks when the bleeding will stop. She knows that men and women have sex to make babies, but she’s never had to ask how, and she’s never had the time or the patience to _care_.

“It never came up,” she huffs out, too embarrassed, her shoulders hiking up to her ears in a defensive posture.

Kylo can feel his heart beating in his ears and other less innocent places. His mind goes somewhere else before he can stop it– Rey whining into a pillow with a hand between her legs sliding against slick pink skin, beneath her trousers, her thin fingers not enough, the pressure never enough to satisfy his precious girl.

Rey goes even more red than before which he hadn’t thought possible, her freckles nearly vanishing. Her voice shakes nervously and it’s hard to believe that she’s not really here because she’s burning warm beneath him when she quakes out a very small “ _no_ , I never–” And draws her hands up to her chest out of spite, away from where he imagined them.

He wordlessly asks permission to touch her and it does something funny to his head when Rey nearly expresses a strange feeling of disappointment at having to give it. Somewhere baser inside of her is a small craving for him to just take what he wants, a funny echo of their very first meeting. Kylo finds his mouth has gone dry and he squeezes his eyes shut so tightly for a moment to make sure that this is real as much as it can be. _Later,_ he presses back. She’s too young to know what she wants, that she wants _that_ –Kylo remembers nineteen as a blur of confusion and sex drive.

He presses her down harder onto the mattress and he tries not to smile at the way she resists for the sake of resisting, her unsure hands landing on the fabric covering his chest and twisting into it for something to hold on to. She’s shaking, both nervous and so excited that her breath is coming in little gasps. Her eyes are wide, taking in how much larger his body is than her own.

“Look at me,” he growls and he feels it through the bond when her stomach flops pleasantly at the sound of his voice. He grips her shoulder with one hand, letting his thumb slide with heavy pressure against her neck, indenting the skin. The other hand he slides between them, roughly bunching the front of her sleep clothes that she’s imagining herself in. He hikes up her shirt, dragging the material over her dainty breasts, freeing them to the cold air. He doesn’t touch her at first, simply stares at the soft, tanned skin laid out before him. Her breasts are perfect, each one slightly smaller than his hand and ending in soft little peaks the same pink as her mouth. She makes a strangled noise again, willing him to do something–her impatience boiling over with him so close to her now.

He splays a hand across her ribcage in wonder at how tiny she is, his hand nearly covering the entire width of her, irritation flaring at the thought of her stunted growth at the hand of years of forced starvation. When she breathes and strains upwards towards the warmth of his palm, her ribs move beneath her skin. He traces the one directly beneath her breast with a fingernail, leaving a raised red line. Rey whimpers and shuts her eyes tightly, biting down hard on nothing, not out of pain but blinding frustration. Kylo frowns and bends his head until he’s hovering just over her skin, a thick lock of his hair tickling a pink nipple, before laving a tongue over the little mark he’d given her. Rey sucks in a sharp gasp of surprise at the sensation of his tongue on her, so close to where she wants him to be.

Kylo smiles and pins both her hands by her head and bends again to put his full attention on her breasts, worrying her nipples with his teeth until they turn red, shiny with spit. She whines out his name behind clenched teeth and a soft _oh_ when he soothes the bite with his tongue again.

When he pulls back Rey’s eyes are starry and blissed out, blinking at him with surprise, her mouth open and wet. Kylo smiles at this too, getting to be the one who turns Rey into such a wanton little thing.

He lets go of her one wrist with a mental warning for her to keep it in place, and she nods slowly, eyes wide when she realizes what he’s going to do next. He rucks her pants down to her knees letting his fingers skim across her hips, Rey wiggling to assist him. She lets out a little sigh and lets her eyes flutter shut when he drags a hand across her taut stomach, thumbing a hipbone.

The first dip of his fingers between her thighs makes him choke–she’s soaking wet, arousal dripping from the lips of her little cunt to pool around her bottom. Kylo groans at the sight–“wet for me, little scavenger?”

Rey sweetly nods up at him with desperation in her eyes, her thoughts an endless ring of _please please please touch me-_

Kylo dips one finger to circle her entrance and gather some of that wetness to spread against her clit–slowly at first, he circles around it, getting her used to the idea of having him touch her, but the first press of his thumb against the flatness of the little bud makes Rey’s legs shake and his cock throb. Rey sobs involuntarily, her nails digging into his other arm where he has her willingly trapped.

“It’s alright,” he murmurs into her hair. “I’m going to make you come, don’t worry. Hush, sweet girl.”

He drags his finger around her clit, over and over, slightly too slow to bring her to satisfaction–and she’s already so close, he can feel it. Rey whines louder and cants her hips up again, seeking more pressure. Kylo hooks his side on top of her torso, forcing her to flatten back down with his own weight and nips at her breast in warning, but Rey only lets out another soft cry at the treatment as if it’s edged her towards orgasm. There’s tears in her eyes now of sweet frustration, her teeth grinding, so she switches tactics and starts begging out loud between ragged gasps of air– _please please please Kylo please make me come please touch me please I want you to_ –she babbles–

All of which immediately goes to Kylo’s head, making him feel like he’s going to evaporate from want. Her cunt is dangerously wet and the smell is driving him insane already–his powerful little scavenger like this for him makes his toes curl and a growl rip from his mouth.

He bites at her neck and speeds up his hand, lazily rutting his leaking cock into her side as she lets out a high pitched, breathless “thank you, oh thank you,” and then seizes up, head rolling back and Kylo can’t help but let out a soft puff of laughter as she trembles through it, hips jerking up. The idea of it all is so ridiculous–she’s not really here, he thinks dimly, but how could that be true because she’s squirming and wet and warm beneath him and he’s just made her come with his hand on her slick clit–

He shoves the offending thought away and mercifully pulls his fingers away from her abused clit, instead letting himself drop his teasing hand down and slowly push one thick finger inside of her–the soft noise she makes in the back of her throat in response jumping straight to his cock and short circuiting his brain. She’s intensely warm and soft inside around his finger and he groans at the thought of fucking her tight little cunt.

Rey lets out a soft “oh” when that particular thought passes between them easily and when he nuzzles into her jaw, she mumbles about how much thicker his fingers are than her own. Kylo groans again, imagination running wild to the image he has of her before, touching herself to the thought of him. He slides in a second one and Rey squirms at the stretch, wincing until he crooks both fingers and puts pressure against the soft spot inside of her–her head whips back so fast she nearly slams against the headboard with a crack, her mouth open wide in a soundless scream. When he starts going faster, she swears and lifts her head, brows pinched together to look down at him moving between her thighs.

“I’m going to fuck you”, he mumbles breathlessly against her cheek, “I’m gonna fuck you so hard you beg, Rey, I’m gonna fill you up until you can’t take it, you’re so damned beautiful you need it don’t you? You need me to put my cock in your little cunt, huh?”

Rey scrabbles with her free hand against his chest, nodding and incoherent with want. “Please Kylo, I want you to–”

His blood feels like fire when he jumps up to settle between her legs, bending her knees to her chest as she squeaks at the suddenness of being exposed like this. Her insides feel like they’ve been twisted as tightly as possible and she keeps clenching down against nothing, and it makes her want to cry. It has to be Kylo, with his mind against hers and his too large body pressing down against her, making her come over and over.

Kylo wraps a fist around his cock and slowly slicks the head against her, he frowns at the sight because he’s not sure how on earth he’s going to make it fit–he uses his free hand to spread her lips open and slides his finger inside of her one last time, jaw going slack at the sight of her like this– wet and whining for him, her little pink cunt working around nothing, begging him to be inside her and fuck her until she’s sore.

So he presses his hips forward and slides the head of his cock inside and immediately lets out a low growl at how tight she is, squeezing him so good already. Rey’s face is worked up again, shaking somewhere between need and fear at the newness of the feeling of him inside her. She babbles at him again–“Kylo you’re so–big”, she half sobs, fingers wound into the blankets. “Please–” and her thoughts short out, torn between wanting him to stop because it’s too much, and needing him to move forward and fill her until she can’t take it.

He slides the rest of the way gently, hushing her and crooning into her cheek, pushing past any resistance left by her body, and Rey hiccups, eyes wet and blinking in shock, too small and sweet for Kylo to handle once their hips slot together. Kylo pants, can’t seem to think anything coherent–she’s too tight around him, his beautiful girl. Rey is such a good girl, a good girl for him, letting him fuck her. He blinks warily and realizes that he’s saying these things out loud and Rey is nodding, looking up at him as if she loves him.

He grits his teeth and swallows a growl at the sweet slide of her wet cunt when he pulls his hips back, until only the head of his cock is stretching her open. Kylo squeezes his forefinger and thumb in a ring around the base of his cock, already too close. Rey lets out a wet sigh and wiggles her hips slightly, to which Kylo slaps her ass–“ _Don’t_ ” he manages to growl out at her. But Rey, heedless, does it again, squeezing her eyes shut, her little face scrunching up–“but I _want_ –” she whines, unable to articulate further, letting the wet slide of her skin try to communicate.

Kylo gives in almost immediately at the sight of her so desperate for him to fuck her; he slides forward with a jolt, and Rey whimpers at the stretch.

“I’m gonna fuck you now,” they’re close like this, noses brushing while he has her bent in half, towering over top of her. Rey nods numbly, blinking up at him, her soft cunt squeezing him. “Is that what you want?” Rey’s jaw goes slack at the question before nodding vigorously.

“Say it,” he breathes out at her, eyes searing. Her mouth opens, wordless for a moment before choking out “please Kylo, please fuck me–”

She’s barely finished the last word when he slides out again and then back in, over and over. The sensation is new for her, and Rey clearly has no idea how to deal with being fucked, because her soft cries are becoming desperate sobs for faster, more, trying to chase the overwhelming feeling of his cock splitting her open and fucking some small spot inside her that wants him viscerally.

And then Kylo reaches between them and rubs two fingers firmly against her clit and Rey nearly screams, back arching and cunt clenching down hard as she comes. Her eyes squeeze shut because it’s too much and she feels like she’s going to die but she can’t stop telling Kylo “thank you thank you, _oh_ -”

Kylo jerks, tension rolling through his massive frame–the last few thrusts are vicious enough to make Rey cry out. Something warm burns inside her and Rey distantly realizes that it’s his come–and briefly thanks god that this isn’t real while the larger man nearly collapses on top of her.

She squirms beneath his crushing weight for a moment until he moves again; Kylo rolls off of her with a groan and shoves his face into the pillow of his own bed, cock still wet. Rey blinks warily at the ceiling of the hut she’s really in, now too sleepy and saited and boneless to think. She's blissed out and buzzing when Kylo briefly lets his fingers trail over her side once more, and Rey shivers at the contact, somehow more intimate after sex than his touching her during the act itself.

“Same time tomorrow?” He mumbles from some place far away, and Rey can’t help but laugh.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry but there's not enough of Kylo putting his mouth to good use so ENJOY PART 2 LADS I love all of you
> 
> Not to be a tease but I have A VAGUE UNDEVELOPED PLOT that will impress none of you with its technique BUT has allowed me to write at least a few more chapters of my favorite two space nerds getting it on. Looking forward to hearing what you guys like about this one :)

It's been a scant few weeks since they've started this dangerous tryst. Kylo finds the part he likes best is afterwords, when Rey gets small and drowsy and saited, her hair knocked askew and curling around her collarbones and soft shoulders. It does wonders for his ego to see her spilled out on his bed after each time, her skinny limbs brushing against his as she curls against him, snoring almost immediately.

Even if it's not entirely real.

With the Supreme Leader he has always shared everything--and yet, he goes to great lengths to hide these memories and his constant desire for her when he is called for an audience. He blankets those nights with the hazy shroud of a dream, blurring the details from Snoke. He tucks them away from the front of his mind and locks them away somewhere deep where he can file through them at his own pace. Surely Kylo Ren, having served his master for so long has earned himself a few secrets.

He really tries not to think about how little he cares for Snoke's teachings now.

The location for the next First Order ambush on the Resistance has been known for weeks-- recon droids have secretly prowled the surface of a moon the Resistance had recently commandeered as a communications hub. The droids return topical maps of the geographical surface and heat scans that put the total feet on the ground at around a thousand lifeforms. It will be a medium scale attack. Kylo has been near the system for two days overseeing the ground strategy when he senses her.

Her mind is against his nearly always now, but proximity blares like a beacon in the corner of his eye when she drops out of hyperspace. She's skirting into a orbiting arc around the moon on a small transport, her thoughts clear to him due to their sudden closeness. She's happy, exited to see someone-- and then he feels her turn sharp in his direction and she snaps like wildfire across the connection, panic building in her mind as she races to open a comm link with the ground base to tell them the First Order is here.

Good.

If the generals notice his sudden gleeful upturn in mood, they only raise eyebrows and say nothing. When Kylo requests that they move the hour of attack up with a vague suggestion that his all knowing force powers have said it should be so, they shrug and nod. Most people alive are the ones that don't doubt him.

So when Kylo's shuttle lands on the periphery of the ensuing battle he finds her almost immediately-- the blue arc of her light saber spinning to deflect blaster bolts coming from all directions. It's been awhile since he's seen her in person, and it's then that he notices her hair has grown longer, that she's choosing to wear half of it down, the rest piled in a bun. It gleams, moving seamlessly around her little determined face as his precious girl murders his stormtroopers.

She knows he's here but hasn't bothered to look for him and engage--she's busy trying to hold out from their duel as long as possible, instead protecting her friends. When he ignites his lightsaber though, she turns to face him across the large meadow, raising her own weapon to block a useless blaster beam aimed at her head without looking.

Even this far away he can tell she's narrowing her eyes at him, annoyed that he's come so early.

The traitor yells something at her and she turns to make sure her friends will survive, before starting a run in his direction.

He can feel her blatant surprise when he turns and sprints away instead of towards her as he normally does.

"What are you _doing_!" she screams after him, exasperated but following nonetheless. At this pace the sounds of the battle are growing dimmer, the wildlife not already frightened off by the distant explosions watching the two of them in the trees. He wants to laugh at the familiar feeling of this, a chase in the woods-- the reversal of roles is amusing.

He ducks behind a boulder and lets her catch up to him, and since he can never really hide from her, she only pretends to be shocked when he jumps out as she nearly passes his position.

Their blades lock instantly with a loud hiss, and scorching heat warms his face and his blood. Rey grits her teeth but this position, too close to his blowback emitters and reliant on her brute strength against his, does her no favors with her smaller stature. She pulls back, blocks and then swings again.

He blocks, and their blades bounce off the rock beside them, sparks flying, and when Kylo shoves in the opposite direction in a wide arc below them, they singe the grass and burn a sweeping wound into a neighboring tree.

They both pull back to reassess, circling each other in the small space between the boulder and the tree line beside it. The ground here is soft and ripe with the green of spring, and Kylo feels his feet sink into the dirt and grass as he steps lightly on the balls of his feet.

"Why did you want to do this here?" It's a half whine in her voice--he knows she worries at the absence of her compatriots, a nagging, constant fear in her head at the danger her new family is in.

Kylo smiles. "I wanted to try something new--"

She swings, and they both clash again. This time she refuses to be cornered, jumping over him with the force and aiming a sweeping move at the back of his knees. The problem with them being in each-other's head though, is that Kylo knows what she's going to do the moment she thinks it. There is some level of spontaneity in her fighting style that keeps him on his toes, but as long as he never stops moving, they're always at a draw.

So he arches back and turns so he's just out of reach of her blade, and twirls to face her again. There's sweat on her brow now, after the long run and the blade's raw heat so close to her body.

"What do you say to a brief truce?"

"What?" She replies flatly, lowering her lightsaber only an inch, the blue glow still reflecting off her face.

"I said I wanted to try something new." Kylo to his own surprise has turned off his lightsaber and hooked it back on his utility belt.

She frowns at him but he lets her in his mind more deeply than usual, enough that she sees this isn't a trick. He genuinely does not want to fight today. He feels her like a nervous bird against his mind, gently pressing deeper, curious--she goes pink when she brushes against the intentions occupying his true purpose.

She can't repress the shiver that goes through her when she sees what exactly he's imagining.

She sputters at first, red wth embarrassment, but she's lost enough focus that he can yank her saber from her grip with the force easily. It slaps into his palm with a satisfying noise.

He waves it like a treat. "You can have this back when you've behaved."

Rey stands very still in shock for a moment, then lets out an indignant scream of rage and bolts towards him, closing the small distance between them and tackling him to the ground.

"You utter-- _nerf herder_!" she howls, scrambling for her saber he's holding just out of reach as they wrestle--she's all squirming, bony limbs but he's got length on his side, simply holding it far above his head as he wraps a firm arm around her waist and constricts tight enough to stop her from edging towards the weapon. Kylo indulges the struggle for a few moments before rolling himself on top of her with a grunt.

With the positions switched he can feel something spark inside her mind--that they could have that same thing in the dreams for real, and Kylo realizes suddenly how badly she wants him to touch her without the barrier of clothing.

He's only happy to oblige, shucking off her outer robes and picking a leaf from her hair, he tugs off his cloak and spreads it down on the forest floor, hauling her on top of it, grinning when she lets out a little indignant gasp at being thrown around.

It's funny how practiced his movements are as he tugs off her clothing-- still, he's not prepared for really, truly seeing her naked. It's not the same as in his dreams at all--it catches his breath and makes his heart skip. She's so damned beautiful, it's sinful. All long toned legs and warm skin, scatters of freckles on the parts of her that love the sun.

She's still so tiny, even with regular resistance rations and Kylo's mind goes somewhere strange, his lizard brain thinking of all the ways he wants to wrap her up in something soft and feed her all different kinds of food and wine until she's sweet with it, sitting in his lap languid and saited and pressing lingering kisses to his cheek.

And then his heart whines something about how he could do just that, if only--

"Hey," she mumbles, still red. "I want your clothes off too." She tugs at the hem of his undershirt, scowling. She hates it when she feels like she has the lower hand, the vulnerability of it.

"Be patient" he growls deeply, swatting her hands away. He feels it when her stomach drops at the timbre of his voice, his little warrior so eager to hear him talk, order her around.

He does want to try something different today--and in fact, he's been planning this, keeping it from her mind. Rey, he knows, because they have few secrets now, simply meditates when she feels the urge to touch herself, too embarrassed to look things up on the holonet.

Which means in all likelihood she doesn't know what he wants to do right now.

He plants himself further down than usual and gives gentle attention to her breasts--she's already a whimpering mess because it feels so much better than the dreams they've shared--his mouth twice as warm, her skin doubly sensitive. She tells him this in her head, because her mouth is busy whining his name, "Kylo--" she squeezes her eyes shut and pants.

He feels her gaze on him when he pulls up and kisses lower against the soft part of her belly, her hipbone, gently squeezing her waist.

"What are you--" He pinches her breast, cutting her off in favor of hearing her whimper.

"Hush," he murmurs against the skin of her thigh, turning his head to plant a kiss there too.

When he settles with his head hovering over her needy little cunt, the edges already slick, Rey looks more confused than turned on, sitting up on her elbows. He can feel it, the question that's burning on her tongue, wondering why they aren't just getting on with it as usual.

He smirks at her, and Rey's stomach drops again. _Oh no_ , he hears her think-- _because him looking like that is never good--_

Kylo chooses this moment to press his hand over her abdomen, pulling her muscles taut and exposing more of her delightful little cunt to the air. He leans down and yes, the first swipe of his tongue against her is glorious, because Rey squeaks, and falls backwards, clapping a palm over her mouth. 

"What, ah--ah!" Her hips jerk up to meet his mouth and she squirms hard, because he is very very close to where she wants him and she knows he's avoiding it on purpose, teasing. Kylo has to stop himself from grinning, putting gentle pressure all around except that tiny spot, a slow circle until Rey is nearly crying with want, one of her small hands tugging at his hair.

He can feel her teetering on the edge of reaching down and doing it herself-but something makes her pause and it makes Kylo's eyes darken when he feels the way she wants it to be him and not her, no matter how desperate and wet she is.

And Kylo is so often helpless to indulge his beautiful girl, so he finally swipes the broad flat of his tongue against her clit and Rey goes boneless, shivering with a swallowed scream.

"Do you like it?" He lifts his chin to settle into her abdomen. She nods enthusiastically, trying to urge him on with an impatient sound, giving him very sad, big eyes that usually make him do whatever she wants.

Kylo laughs a kiss into the soft skin of her thigh and bends back down to lick her earnestly--originally he was going to pause here and make her sweetly beg for it, but to be fair he wants this too and knows he wouldn't be able to last long against one tearful plea.

He moves his tongue in long gentle licks against her clit, careful not to go to fast until she's really worked up. Rey is making strangled noises each time that go straight to his cock. He unhooks one of his hands from her thigh to gently trace the entrance to her pink cunt, gathering the wetness there across his forefinger--Rey lets out a pleasant sigh when he pushes his finger forward and hooks it up inside of her.

For all the dreams, Rey is technically untouched in real life and she's tight enough to show for it. Kylo groans against her skin at the feeling, knowing he's going to fuck her so soon.

But Rey is very close, so he concentrates on moving his tongue faster, more rhythmically, and Rey responds by increasing the pitch of her whines for more and canting her hips towards his mouth. Normally Kylo would put a stop to all that messy squirming and hold her down until her eyes got wide and she begs, but he can't bring himself to stop that furious cascade of pleasure that's coming down over both of them.

Rey comes with his name on her her lips and a breathy "thank you, oh--" like he's a god, and good lord it does things to him and the deep, feral part of his brain. He blinks and realizes that he's been half rutting his pants into the ground he's so hard. Rey whimpers high in the back of her throat when he removes the two fingers he's worked inside her, but he needs them to tug down his trousers and expose his cock. He soothes her with a warm hand dragged over her stomach and a breathless "It's alright sweetheart, I'm going to fuck you good, don't worry--"

He braces himself with one arm above her, and with the other drags his cock against her and ungracefully wheezes at the sight of her wetness clinging to him.

It's better, so much better than the dreams that he's convinced his past self was incredibly stupid for settling for subpar mental sex with the girl he lov--

She's tight and hot and good around him when he pushes in, and his little Rey, so used to pain, hardly even blinks at the burning sensation of being stretched on his cock for the first time.

"Oh," she mumbles, her hands fluttering against his chest, blinking rapidly. "Oh!" she squeaks out again when he slides his hips at an angle until their bodies are flush.

Her eyes have gone very wide at the sensation and Kylo focuses on breathing because Rey is squeezing herself experimentally around him and it's driving him insane. 

"Move," she orders impetuously, rolling her hips, sliding his cock in and out a few inches. Her mind is fumbling in excitement at finally getting what she loves in those dreams--Kylo holding her down and pounding her with abandon.

Kylo groans and moves his hips, albeit slower than she's whining for.

"What did I say," he hisses against her neck, timed with one rough thrust that has her moan.

Rey shakes her head wildly, refusing to cooperate in that funny way she likes. She never says it, but he feels the way she likes it when he makes her, when he pushes her and makes her beg for it. The struggle satisfies her and Kylo is all too willing to play along, hold her down and make her take whatever he wants to give.

The next few thrusts and shallow and painfully slow enough that Rey sobs and hiccups the answer, muffled into his shoulder. "Be patient," she repeats tearfully up at him, her face red with frustration.

"How bad do you want it, angel," he murmurs into her neck, letting his tongue dart out beneath her ear to trace a line that makes her shiver and clench down.

Rey's brain apparently short circuits at the sound of his deep voice and the thought of actually replying _badly, please fuck me I want it bad_ , because she doesn't answer at first, only letting out sweet little noises of want. It's not until he coaxes it out of her with a slow circle of his hand at her clit that they make some progress that Kylo considers rewarding.

She thinks it loudly, very loudly, but her mouth doesn't cooperate, too overwhelmed by the feeling of him finally inside her, stretching her wide, fucking her teasingly slow, choking with pleasure when she tries to speak.

Kylo decides he'll take it and starts moving in earnest, earning him a yelp and her hands on him and god she's so tiny beneath him, always making him feel like a king.

His beautiful girl has her hair spread out around her like a halo, her soft breasts bouncing in time with his thrusts, and she's calling his name like a prayer, and telling him there's only him who gets to touch her, only he ever makes her feel like this--

That's what does it, and Kylo is not surprised when he comes to the sound Rey feeding into his possessive tendencies and telling him she's all his for the taking. The endless litany of _mine mine mine_ is bouncing around his head, and satisfaction is curling low in his stomach thinking about how good she is only for _him_.

He tries to hold his full weight off of her for as long as possible while she comes down and pants below him, but eventually his shaking arm gives out and he gently nudges her to the side of his cloak so he can lay down on the other. Rey squirms over with the sweet enthusiasm of a recently orgasmed girl-- meaning that she groans grumpily at having to move an inch but does it anyway, curling into him.

He strokes her arm with the backs of his fingers, eyes nearly glazed over with how badly he wants to take her away from this war. His mother and father had a little cottage somewhere on Naboo that they had taken quiet days in between the constant movement of life. He wonders vaguely if it still stands, as its been empty for years as far as he knows--he highly doubts his parents returned after--

He stalls that line of thought and focuses instead on the drowsy girl beside him. Rey would like the sun and the trees and the water, and he allows himself to imagine watching her plant things in the garden outside and nurturing them, making them grow.

She's so good at it--he knows about the little desert flower she kept alive. Life from a wasteland. Love in the part of the world where it's supposed to be absent. Rey is truly a wonder.

Rey mumbles something about how it feels nice when he touches her like that, half asleep even though it's the afternoon. He's got her trained well with the dreams, sleep always following them quickly after they come. 

"Mhmm," he rumbles.

"We have to go soon," her words are muffled into his arm where she's smushing her face. "They're going to start looking for us."

 _I know_ , he thinks, _but just a little while longer_ \--and Rey is always helpless to indulge him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In an AMAZING turn of events I'm back in the trash pile, is anyone actually surprised? No? Good. This is literally just porn. Oh my god.

The lie comes so easily to Rey that it’s not until she’s walking away from the command room that she realizes the gravity of what she’s doing. Her eyes had snapped to a supply run needed five sectors over; a good week long mission added to the roster that morning. Something sweet had pooled in her stomach, dark and bad and wanting and _guilty_.

To her surprise, General Organa had acted unsurprised when Rey personally asks to fulfill it. “You probably want some time to yourself,” the older woman had said with a lazy wave. “I know coming here with us must have been an adjustment after being so solitary for so long. Take the week off, regroup in hyperspace.”

Rey stumbles to the med bay in shock that this is actually working; two nights ago Kylo had nervously asked her if she wanted to meet again. He had sent her coordinates in the bond; a tiny house on some little planet Rey hasn’t heard of, secluded and peaceful.

She is absolutely sure that the doctor is going to turn her in to the war council when Rey gives a stuttering cough and asks for the contraceptive implant.

“Sure thing sweetheart, you’re way past due for a human female anyway,” the other woman says with a shrug, pulling out an injector and a tiny plastic rod. The endearment makes her go completely red in the face, usually only used when she’s whining for Kylo to—

Before she knows it, Rey is numbly walking back to her barrack she shares with a few other girls, gently touching the device now beneath the skin of her bicep—the subject of her thoughts attracts Kylo’s attention immediately, who swarms with concern at the idea of “ _implant_ , “ _doctor_ ,” and “ _device_ ,” until she rolls her eyes and bats him away. He shrinks back out of her head with a sulk.

His willpower to obey her lasts only a few minutes until he breaks with curiosity. _Are you alright?_ He prods, less panicked and more genuine now.

 _Yes_ , she scowls back. _I’m fine. Stop nagging._

That makes him seethe, and he cracks out of her head with a snap so sharp it hurts her skull. Rey rolls her eyes and groans and very quietly thinks-- _what_   _a big baby_ —before gently nudging him back.

 _Is your_ —Rey very nearly looses her courage when her mind goes to a dirty place. _Offer_ , she decides is the right word, _still open_?

She’s piqued his attention tenfold, and the return of his consciousness is sudden and blanketing. The feeling of it is too intense, and Rey sighs, trying to stop the warm shiver that rolls through her.

He’s very pleased, and Rey can feel it as if it’s her own. And it is, really. Her heart is fluttering beneath her standard issue tunic, too excited. It’s not the caf she drank this morning.

 _I can meet you there in thirty hours_ , she murmurs. _Is that_ _ok?_

* * *

 

The planet is the perfect balance of green and sunlight and water, and Rey lets out a soft sigh at the sight laid out before her as she puts the supply shuttle into a series of landing maneuvers. The bond brightens in intensity the closer she gets, humming at a comfortable rhythm. It’s strange and new, the relaxed joy bleeding into her brain.

Rey attributes it to the fact that they’re not currently engaging in a bloody all out adrenaline fueled fight to the death, stumbling over fallen resistance soldiers and Stormtroopers alike.

Her face twists unhappily at the guilt in her chest but Kylo helps, gently nudging the thought from her mind and helping her let it go. Rey peers out of the window to see a little wooden, one story house perched between the edge of a green lake and a forest of trees. A tiny, non-descript ship is tucked away on a grassy knoll a half mile away. Rey’s lips quirk up, imagining Kylo cramped up in the too-small pilot’s seat.

She hops out of the shuttle, not bothering to use the ladder and instead using the force to steady her landing. Kylo is standing a few meters away, hair tossed by the engine’s fans cooling down the heated metal.

He looks—different. Nicer, in the sun. He’s not wearing the mask, or really, any of his usual uniform, just a deep brown tunic and an attempt at a smile.

Rey is staring at him stupidly for so long that his mouth turns down and his anxiety spikes.

“No—“ she says, jumping at the sound of her own voice, sounding very loud. She’s suddenly aware of chirping birds and the sound of lapping water, the soft rush of wind in the grass. This planet is so decadent, just made to be looked at and loved. “You just look nice.” She says quieter, twisting her hands in her own jacket, nervous. Her heart is thudding loudly and Rey is surprised by how desperately she wants him like this.

“I couldn’t exactly stomp around in the mask when I came here, could I?” He answers, crossing the space between them in long strides. “Bit suspicious.”

“You joke now?” she answers flatly, blinking up at him. The sun has cast his eyes in a shade of honey brown that makes Rey want to sit in his lap and stay there.

“You make me want to.” He mumbles, looking annoyed. He says it almost like an accident and Rey gets the distinct feeling that he didn’t want her to know that.

He pulls her to his chest as if he can’t stand to look at her face anymore, afraid his heart will burst. He curls himself over her and tucks his face into her hair. The energy between them is hard to place, a nervous, wanting thing.

Rey sighs and shivers again—he’s warm and tall and he smells like soap. _It’s not fair_ , she thinks bitterly, letting her arms come up to encircle his back and squeeze hard over the corded muscle.

“There’s nobody here for miles,” he mumbles into her neck, and Rey trembles at the feeling of his mouth moving against her skin. She had squirmed in her seat nearly the entire way here, imagination running wild with nothing else to do but imagine him. “You’re safe.”

She can feel how pleased he is to say that to her, one of his hands sliding down her spine with a soothing pressure. She shuffles under him, embarrassed by the knots of bone she can’t seem to get rid of.

Her stomach rumbles as if on cue and he steps back but doesn’t stop touching her, his hands sliding up to her neck, letting a calloused thumb drag against her jaw. A heat settles in Rey’s gut, enough to make her legs weak and her head feel like it’s going to float away.

“We should eat,” he says under his breath. He’s staring at her so intently that Rey feels pinned already.

She nods wordlessly, nuzzling her head into the warmth of his hand, scared by how much she likes it.

* * *

 

The inside of the little house isn’t bare, to her surprise. The ghosts are loud here, echoes of a family Rey will never see. Her heart breaks over and over again when it notices little things—scratches in the doorframe showing how tall a little boy had grown each year, an amateur painting of the lake with a tall man and a child by the shore, folded blankets and sweet love letters hidden in drawers between a man and his wife. There’s no doubt in her mind where they are now. His heart is bleeding into hers with memories.

Kylo has done his best to clean apparently, because there’s no layer dust as she had expected. The house is shaded in colors of warm browns and yellows and blues, curtains rustling quietly in the breeze. You can still hear the lake from inside, and Rey already feels drowsy and ready to nap curled against him.

“I thought you would like it,” he says this urgently, desperately. Rey nods, she does like it, a little too much. It’s a stark contrast to her old empty metal home on Jakku, harsh and cutting and bone chillingly aching.

Rey touches the waxy leaf of a green plant by the doorway, enjoying the feeling of the smooth texture between her fingertips. Some strange emotion burns in her throat. When Kylo had made his suggestion to meet she hadn’t expected it to be this. It’s too overwhelming—but she wants it, loves it, lets it carve out a little piece of her heart.

He sets out bowls of something that smells salty and makes her mouth water, so she pads over barefoot to the table—benches, not individual chars which Rey likes because the bond is tugging at her, making Rey mindless so she tucks herself beside him without thinking, nudging his arm around her. He can’t seem to stop moving his hands over her, touching her thigh, sliding down her shoulder and up her neck, touching her hair.

Rey is a creature of habit so she eats quickly and in silence, big slurping spoonfuls that make him wrinkle his nose at her in disgust and press his mouth to her temple in small kisses between his own careful, measured bites. The heat of the soup settles pleasantly in her stomach and Rey leans heavily against him when she’s done, enjoying feeling him move beside her. She lets her body go boneless, slowly and in steps until she’s half asleep beside him.

He’s got half a laugh in his voice when he nudges her awake after a while—Rey blinks her eyes open and wonders how long he let her be like that, because the sun is casting deeper shades of orange through the windows and his plate his cleared and his hands are carding through her hair. “How long was your flight, little scavenger?”

“Long,” she mumbles into his side, enjoying the leisure of complaining about something small for once. “Fifteen hours,” she answers more precisely, sitting up straighter and letting her spine crack. She’s still sore from sitting in that chair for so long, shoulders aching from standing at the controls. She hadn’t wanted anyone to track her which meant travelling manually instead of using the navcomp broadcasting for most of the trip.

“Mhmm,” he rumbles, tracing a small pattern between the freckles on her wrist. He sounds equally tired but content.

He gathers her up and herds her to a room with a wide bed that Rey gratefully sinks down onto. The sheets are soft, too soft and Rey hates the guilt that swarms around her again—but she gets distracted by furtively watching when Kylo pulls off his belt, her interest glazing over the motion of his biceps and wide shoulders moving beneath his shirt.

“You need _sleep_ ,” he mutters with a playful roll of his eyes, placing a wide hand on her sternum and pressing her down onto the bed.

“I need _lots_ of things,” she says with a grin and an unbidden rolls of her hips, looking at him through her lashes, too enamored with the way his hand on her makes her feel very small.

He snorts and Rey scowls at him.

“Fine,” she snaps, rolling over and taking the blankets with her—the ensuing struggle has them both yelping and squirming and soon he’s got her wrapped up in a quilt and tucked against him tightly. “Sleep first,” he says with a victorious smile, looking highly pleased with himself.

Rey squirms once more for good measure but she’s suddenly aware of how tired she is now, her breath gone and her limbs begging to stay still.

“Alright,” she breathes out in acquiescence, and eyes droop and—

* * *

 

She wakes up lazily, taking her time and burrowing further into the solid wall of heat beside her, into the softness beneath her. She’s rubbing her nose into his chest when she feels him wake up.

It’s light out again, to her surprise. They had slept the whole night and Rey has a sneaking suspicion it has something to do with the bond which is humming at a happy frequency, thrumming with unadulterated delight at having them together so close for so long. Rey feels too well rested, balanced and good. It’s strange.

Kylo seems content to stay where they are—at some point during the night they had both ended up beneath the same blanket, limbs tangled together. When he wakes up, he curls around her even tighter, dragging his hands over every inch of her within reach. Rey is strangely delighted by the feeling of her bare ankles rubbing against the warm skin of his calves, the texture of the hair on his legs and the rise and fall of his chest.

They can’t help themselves for very long; soon his hands creep up beneath her shirt and he has her squirming, chasing the sensation of his palms on her skin. His pupils, when she finally looks up at him are dark and liquid. He smiles, letting his gaze drag over her face when he finally cups a breast in his hand and squeezes her nipple, because Rey can’t keep her gasp quiet.

She grinds her teeth because he’s _teasing_ —going so slow and getting her entirely too worked up for how little he’s actually done. He likes her frustrated, she knows.

It means she’s embarrassingly wet when he slides a hand between her legs, over top of her leggings. They’re damp and Rey feels a flush crawl up her neck and she squeezes her eyes shut, and Kylo lets out a triumphant breath, letting his fingers drag slowly over the wet material, enjoying the sound she makes in the back of her throat.

“I know, sweetheart,” he mumbles, too close to her ear, making her shiver. The endearment combined with his searching fingers pulling away to tug at the waistband of her leggings is too much and Rey feels a funny rush of heat behind her eyes. She want to cry, because she likes it too much, a horrible storm of desperation in her chest. She lets out a watery whine when she feels his fingers slide slick and wonderful against her clit, the delicious pressure making her rock her hips up.

“Please,” she hears herself warble as if from very far away.

He hushes her, hardly moves any faster. “You’re always so wet for me,” he says in an energetic rush, his words vibrating with need. “I love you like this, I always want you like this, want to keep you here and make you come, make you beg me for it, sweetheart.”

“I want to keep you here in bed forever, darling, tie you up and have you wait for me, touch you until you cry with it, god, I love it when you beg for me to fuck you like you’re going to die without my cock in your tight little cunt—“

Rey goes in an instant from the edge to an orgasm that takes the wind out of her with a strangled cry. His fingers circle her clit faster, letting her ride through it until she’s shaking and trying to pull his hand away with soft noises, unable to do anything trapped by his weight rolled on top of her. He hushes her again, keeping his thumb still on her clit yet still putting sweet pressure on it that makes Rey twitch, and sliding two fingers inside of her wet cunt.

“ _God_ —“ they both choke out at the same time; Rey at the stretch of his fingers, Kylo at the tight heat. His head drops to her chest, too heavy and making her breath come too slow. Rey’s legs kick out without her permission, her thighs twitching. She’s still got her leggings on, the material ruined with her slick and Rey wonders if that was his plan so he could have her walk around without pants.

He scrambles suddenly up and over her, tugging her waist up with one hand to jerk her clothes off in a flurry of movement, his fingers dragging over her everywhere and leaving her gasping for it. Rey grinds her hips back into the mattress when he’s done and shucking off his own clothes, the softness against her skin too luxurious, making her want the roughness of his touch over her again.

He tugs her up on her knees, positioning her back to his front, and Rey feels her stomach drop when his hand slides up her torso to the front of her neck, encircling it and putting solid pressure on the delicate skin and muscle there. Her gasps come out more ragged and both of her hands fly up to—tug his hand away? Press it down harder? It’s difficult to decide in the haze of lust and Rey whines, egging him on to pull back slightly, making her back bend towards him.

 There’s the hot slide of his cock against her backside, leaving a stick trail of precum on her back. She hears him groan, can see it in his mind, the curve of her waist, her hair trailing down her back, the way her spine is arched. Kylo places a hand around his cock and slides it between her thighs where she’s entirely too wet and then—

Rey lets out a long drawn-out noise when he pushes his cock inside her inch by inch. She’s still tight, or he’s too big, and she nearly jerks away but the pressure is too good so she settles down instead and takes it.

When he’s worked himself fully inside her she hears him let out a shaky sigh. The hand on the smallest part of her waist comes up to her hair and gathers it up to fist it tight—not quite pulling painfully but on the edge, and Rey feels her cunt squeeze around him at the sensation.

“You should see how you look, sweetheart,” he says slowly, and the low, dark timbre of his voice has her whimpering again.

Kylo pulls back on her hair, making her back arch until they’re nearly flush and it feels good, so good that Rey opens her mouth and starts begging for it.

“Please fuck me—“she babbles suddenly, eyes on the ceiling and her stomach wound tight. “Kylo I can’t, I want it so badly you don’t _understand_ —“ and the last word is a sob of desperation.

“Baby,” he croons, “you can do _better_ than that,” and there’s a sinking feeling in Rey’s stomach because _no_ , _not now_  , the bastard can’t deny her when she’s stuffed full like this, spread open for him and shaking with it.

She trembles and swallows and tries again. “Please, please—“ Rey squeezes her eyes shut, face red. “Your cock is too _big_ it hurts but it’s good, I want you to hold me down and fuck me with it and make me come and I, ah, want you to please, please, come inside me so everyone knows I’m yours and— _ah_ ”

That seems to do the trick because his hips jerk forward and he somehow slides deeper and Rey _keens_ with it, and the noise she makes seems to be that last of Kylo’s willpower because he’s suddenly fucking her so hard that she can’t breathe.

He pushes her down on the mattress so her face is pressed into the pillows, one hand on the back of her neck but the other pulling up on her hips, arching her spine again and changing the angle. He  curls over her and growls out “Rey, your little cunt is so tight for me, good girl, do you want me to make you come?”

Rey sobs and nods because she can’t do it herself because the kriffing bastard is using the force to pin her wrists down and away from her clit. “Only me, sweetheart,” he nuzzles into her shoulder blade, dragging his teeth on her skin slightly. “ I know you want to touch but it’s better when I do it because you’re mine, Rey, your little cunt is mine too— _say it_ ,” he hisses darkly.

Rey’s head feels like it’s going to spin away from her if he doesn’t touch her so she nods and babbles at him and endless string of want. “ _Yes_ ,” she gasps out, too high pitched, “I’m yours, please touch me, please,” she whines out—

He drags wet fingertips over her clit and goes in agonizing circles that take the strength out of her legs, which are shaking too badly to cope. Her hips fall to the mattress and his cock slides partway out when he misses a stroke.

“ _No_ ,” he snarls, snapping his hand away and slapping her ass so hard she squeaks in surprise. “Keep your ass up.”

Rey whines but complies, forcing the last of her strength to give him the angle he wants and she hisses when he thrusts back in again, her shoulders hiking up to her ears. He’s hitting something sweet inside of her like this that makes her toes curl.

He makes her beg for his hand back and she nods wetly into the pillow as she does, because she wants to come so badly she could scream—and she does scream when he traces over the pink bud again, pleasure arching up her spine like electricity.

It doesn’t take long with him fucking her like this, one hand squeezing her neck and the other between her legs, and Rey cries his name when she comes with jerking hips—she squeezes around him so tightly she hears him choke and then his cock twitches inside of her and it’s too warm and hot and Rey is gasping because his fingers have gone very tight around her neck.

When Rey lifts her head slightly sometime later, she feels Kylo pressing small, open-mouthed, reverent kisses to her spine, breathing soft endearments into her skin, telling her how good she is, how much of a good girl she is for his cock. Rey feels something funny settles in her stomach because the words are laced with his intent in the force when they’re both like this, walls down, and it sounds almost like love.

Rey blinks in the sunlight that’s coming through the open window, letting the breeze cool the sweat that's gathered at the nape of her neck and starts to think too hard about things she can’t have.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was brought to you by two glasses of wine and is almost entirely porn! I don’t even like shower sex! Oh my god!!!!

Kylo spends the next few days bending Rey over every possible surface available. They had thoroughly defiled the kitchen table and the poor bed had seen unspeakably lewd acts. Rey’s scrabbling nails had scratched the paint off of the writing desk, and Kylo had broken a plate in his haste to clear the coffee table to throw Rey on her back and lick between her honeyed thighs.

The bathroom is a special kind of delight; the slip-slide of Rey’s soapy skin beneath his fingers, pink from the warm water. She clings to him when he presses into her tight heat, his hands holding her up by her ass, trapping her against the tiled wall so her slender legs wrap around him. She feels weightless like this, his heart pounding and arms barely straining to lift her, coaxing soft mewls from her pretty mouth.

The angle and the water means he’s taking his time; slow thrusts that make her shiver and duck her face into his neck. Her breath hitches when he scrapes the softest part of her cunt; Rey moans and squeezes her eyes shut.

“You know,” he starts, tone conversational save for his own labored panting “I think I told you to get clean in here,” he nips at her neck. “Not more filthy, hm?”

Rey blinks at him through a haze of fucked-out pleasure, brow wrinkling. “You—ah! Started it—“

He scrapes his teeth against a tendon in her neck; the resulting shudder makes her cunt clench around him and Kylo has to force himself to breathe through it. She did have a point. He had run his hands over her with the loose guise of helping her soap up, taking his time with the tender skin of her breasts and then finally dipping his fingers between her thighs to find that she was very, very wet.

He’d been very helpless to the sight of his fingers scissoring apart when he pulled them away, a small, sticky string of her wetness clinging to his fingers.

He had swallowed loudly before flicking his eyes to hers, expression dark with lust and Rey had whimpered—

It had brought them to their current situation, the hot shower beating against his back while he pinned Rey to the wall and fucked into the sweet little cunt he’d already made orgasm three times since breakfast. Rey was currently letting out little choked gasps each time he bottomed out, shaking with how terribly close she was to coming again.

Her arms which were loosely entwined around his neck, pulling at wet locks of his hair, went rigid. Rey squirmed on his cock as much as she could in her current position, trapped against him.

“Harder—ah, m’close—please,” she whined, the last word a level of desperation Kylo was becoming quite familiar with.

“You want to be fucked harder, sweetheart?”

Rey’s face flushes at the sweet endearment combined with the lewdness of the context, nodding up at him, biting at her lip in an effort to keep quiet.

Delighted, Kylo pushed up with one hand to bend her tanned thigh back, putting her knees at her head and making the angle more intense. He grins like a loon at the sight of her bent in half, taking his whole cock into her pink cunt.

“So damned flexible, Rey, you were made to take a fucking, hm?”

Rey gasps something filthy at him in Huttese that prompts a sharp spank that leaves her squirming. When he soothes the spot with a firm hand dragged over the skin of her peachy ass, Rey tilts her head back against the tile, looking at him through half lidded eyes soft with sex. “Fuck, Ben— _please_ can I come?”

Kylo was a quick study the past few days of exactly how to finish her off; he frees a hand up by pinning her with the force instead and dragging a finger tip in a quick circle right on her clit while pounding up into her.

He takes his time, murmuring praises into the warm skin just beneath her jaw. “So good for me, sweet girl, asking to come,” he mumbles, working his fingers faster.

Rey squeaks at the sensation before Kylo hears her take a sharp gasp of breath, her body going still beneath his as she comes, but that won’t do—he pushes the pace of his cock to a punishing tempo and drags a long, desperate moan out of her. Satisfied, and feeling her slump shaky and boneless in his arms to take his cock with soft, overworked whimpers, he keeps at it for just a quick while longer before painting the inside of her cunt with come.

He almost doesn’t notice that she called him Ben.

* * *

  
It had helped, in hindsight that when Kylo had finally acquiesced to putting her down, that Rey had simply slipped down to her knees and gently lapped up the come coating his cock, her little pink tongue covered in soft globs of white liquid. He has to brace himself on the wall for fear of a lust induced heart attack when she had finished, visibly working her throat around the last of it and peeking up at him through her wet lashes.

So, understandably his mind is not exactly functioning at maximum capacity enough to catch her mistake with his name. When she finally speaks it’s after swallowing his spend, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “I really want you to come in my mouth,” she announces matter of factly.

He hadn’t really suggested it before; he quite thoroughly enjoyed fucking her and it was often difficult to get creative when his instinct was screaming at him to bury himself inside her cunt.

“You do it to me,” she says shyly, her mind a pleasurable collection of memories, specifically of his tongue relentless and soft all at once against her clit, her thighs spread wide and held there by his heavy hands.

He nods stupidly down at her. His refractory period wasn’t exactly that of a teenager, so instead he hauls her up, and actually begins to help her shower.

* * *

 

He begins making lunch for the two of them while Rey dries off, returning in his undershirt long abandoned as she towels off her hair. She’s warm and at his arm in an instant, curiously studying the fruits and vegetables he’s cutting up for sandwiches.

Rey leans against his weight, wrapping her slender arms around him, letting her fingers drag luxuriously at the skin just below the waistband of his trousers.

“Go fill up the teakettle, sweetheart,” he says gently—Rey hums and takes her time unwinding from him; her thoughts are already soft and hazy with expected pleasure for after lunch. He rolls his eyes despite enjoying the shiver that runs through their shared consciousness. _Insatiable_ , he teases.

Rey ignores him and fixes them a pot of Alderaanian tea; Kylo had showed her how on the first day they arrived. It was a habit he had picked up in childhood from his mother; caf in the morning, white tea with lunch, black with dinner and milky tea for a nightcap. A routine he’d never shed if he had access to a kettle and clean water.

His heart suddenly clenches at an idea—before this week Rey had never had tea on Jakku and had watched in rapt wonder when he had showed her the proper way to pour without getting the tea leaves in the cup, and then there was the thought, distant but vivid; Rey thinks about how she’s seen General Organa go through the same process with her small bejeweled hands.

“You could come back with me,” she whispers so quietly from across the kitchen, that Kylo is pretty sure he only heard because he has access to her mind.

His hands are frozen over the cutting board, trying desperately to ground himself by squeezing the knife handle.

“I mean it—“ she’s crossed the room in an instant, suddenly a bright, burning ball of determination at his elbow. “She wants to see you again, she lov—“

“Rey,” he interrupts gently.

“S’not _fair_ ,” she hisses, ragged. “You know you could. I’ll help you, Ben, I want to.”

He sets the knife down and grips the counter, squeezing until the edges cut into his palms. “Don’t ask me.”

“Why?” she answers, the haughty tone broken by tears. “Afraid you’ll say yes?”

“Rey—“ he says, once out loud and a thousand times between their connection.

Suddenly she’s found a way to squirm up against his chest, and she’s kissing him and clutching at him desperately.

It suddenly occurs to him that this is the first time he’s kissed her and oh, how he hates himself for the denial. Nothing compares to having her pulled against him, her soft, wet mouth urgently moving against his own, her little, curious tongue gently licking at the seam of his lips.

He can’t do anything but slide his palms against her neck and kiss her back, crowding her against the counter. _I love you_ , he affirms, his heart feeling as wide and as broken as the galaxy. _I love you always, I always did. I promise, Rey, Rey, Rey—_

Rey lets out a silent sob and nods against his mouth, and his heart shatters as he watches her treasure the only scraps of affection he’s capable of.

* * *

 

He presses his mouth against her spine with silent apologies. He had moved her to the bed, his girl shaky and pliant with tears as he pressed her down on the mattress, trying to ground her. He makes her come as softly as he can with his mouth, murmuring things he’s never said out loud into her ear as she comes down. He parts her thighs from where he’s laying behind her and he hears her let out a soft, hiccuping sigh when he slides inside of her, watching the bones of her spine arch back at the stretch.

He holds her tightly against him until she’s gasping for it, eyelashes still wet and grinding back against him. He groans when he comes, holding her waist so tightly she whimpers.

Afterwords she falls asleep, exhausted and puffy from crying. She snuffles as she dreams, curling away from him and shivering so badly that he starts to worry. Ben stays awake, carding his fingers through her hair until she goes quiet and still and he starts making promises to himself he can’t keep.

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What’s up I gathered you all here today for gratuitous blowjob smut
> 
> Also two chapters in one day?? It’s cause I gotta upload them fast before I lose my nerve lmao enjoy this blantant porn

Rey’s not sure how exactly she found herself kneeling between Ben’s thighs; somewhere between dinner and watching the sunset on the lake, her body had began to itch despite having already reached her physical limits for old fashioned sex, the apex of her thighs satisfyingly sore. But the need to please Ben had gotten wrapped around her brain stem and refused to dissipate, so she was left to shove him down on the armchair and sit in his lap.

The kissing was new and exciting, and Rey liked it immensely; it was strange to feel his tongue against hers but the slickness of it reminded her of other nice things. Rey was fascinated by how much of kissing involved lovely touches elsewhere; Ben’s too large hands would cup the back of her neck and tighten in her hair to hold her head the way he wanted it, so she couldn’t pull away to gasp for air.

Now that she was sitting in his lap, he devoured her, pulling her lip between his teeth and swallowing the small sounds she made. All of this combined resulted in Rey squirming and steadily rocking her hips against him, relishing the pleasure that kept spiking in her belly.

He huffs a laugh at her wanton behavior and for some reason, the deep sound sends an illicit tendril right down her spine and Rey shivers against him. The hand not tangled in her hair is gently kneading at her shoulders beneath the gaped collar of his too large shirt and Rey tries to press herself harder up against it.

While she’s very content to stay here and let him kiss the living daylights out of her, unfortunately Rey has a plan.

Rey reluctantly slides off of him, lamenting the loss of warmth and wincing at the grip of her hair that is entirely too delightful. He looks confused at first until she slowly kneels in front of him and slides her small palms up the fabric covering his thick thighs, hovering over his lap.

She watches him wordlessly from below as understanding passes over his features and he lets out a shaky breath and sinfully licks his lips. Rey feels her whole body tighten with twinned anticipation. His brown eyes are dark and heady and they make her want to curl up and let him do whatever he wants to her.

The hand in her hair slowly tightens and tilts her head back until Rey parts her lips and gasps softly, baring her neck.

His other hand goes up, gently tracing the stretched skin over her vulnerable windpipe and then further up over the bone of her jaw. His hand, large and calloused, drags slightly over her chin and lips.

“Open.”

She complies without thinking, parting her lips just enough for the thumb that slides into her mouth. He pauses for a second, just feeling the velvet wet of her tongue. She blinks up at him, straining.

He adds another finger and presses down slightly, working her jaw open. The sensation is strange, and she works to swallow the spit gathered in the back of her throat, choking slightly.

“Suck,” he orders with such dark authority Rey feels it in her bones. She nods eagerly and closes her lips gently, hollowing her cheeks and mimicking the cocksucking movement she’d seen in holos left behind on ancient Star Destroyers. The wet sounds are lewd and loud in the empty room.

Eventually he pressed down too hard and she gags and sputters on the thick digit, letting out a little sound of frustration. He smiles and slides his fingers out, predatory, and smears wetness across her lips. His hand retreats but Rey feels like she just ran a marathon.

“Go on,” he murmurs, voice low. His eyes don’t leave her own.

The dizzying eye contact has her flushed and shaking when she draws up her hands to pull at his trousers. His cock is already a sizably firm bulge under the fabric and Rey has to blink to concentrate as she wraps one hand around his length and pulls it free.

It looks too big in her own small palm, and Rey’s brow wrinkles. It doesn’t look like it should fit anywhere, let alone—

“Well, you always get so wet, sweetheart,” he drawls from above her. “You take the whole thing in your little cunt like a good girl, hm? You used to squirm ‘cause it stretched you open and you were too tight at first, remember?”

Rey’s mouth opens automatically to retort something scathing but his lazy tease has muted her mind to anything but the need to start suckling at his thick cock. Her whole face goes red and she tries to calm her stuttered breathing. Her mouth is watering and suddenly Rey wants so, so badly for him to groan and for his come to paint her tongue. The thought should disgust her, but something dark slinking at the back of her mind wants to roll in the filth of it.

“Why don’t you show me how thankful you are for my cock, hm?”

Rey has to close her eyes at that. Being on her knees in front of him has turned his mind into something akin to a wildfire, burning up her skin through their mental link and skittering out of control. She wasn’t oblivious to his more possessive nature and often found her body tingling each time he casually demonstrated his dominance over her, but apparently he _really_ enjoyed the image of her between his legs, thoroughly fucked from the days activities.

He spreads his legs wider and leans back against the chair. The hand stays in her hair, gently tugging her towards his cock. It’s pretty, Rey thinks shyly. Pink and slick at the top, a firm weight in her hand.

She tentatively leans forward and lets the tip of her tongue lap at the slit— the taste is not unlike her own from when Ben pushes his wet fingers from her slit to her mouth, salty and almost coppery. She flattens her tongue and swipes across the top once with more pressure.

He lets out a long sigh—halfway to a groan and Rey grins.

“Rey,” he says warningly, eyes dark.

She obediently leans forward to lap at the length of him, pausing only to press opened mouth kisses with the flat of her tongue the same way she likes him to do to her cunt. He hisses between his teeth and begins to tug more sharply at her hair.

“Don’t tease,” he mutters, tilting his head back. Rey feels satisfyingly small like this, willing victim to his whims. She resolves not to think about it too much.

“Go on,” he murmurs more urgently. “Suck.”

His cock is already wet from her licks, and the weight of it slides back on her tongue with little friction. She has to open her mouth wider than she thought, suddenly aware of a pleasurable ache in her jaw.

She already knows not to use her teeth because Ben is trying not to wince at the thought he’s trying to tamp down with little success. Once she works him in and out for a few strokes he relaxes and the worry fades. He lifts his head and blinks down at her—

Rey stills, whimpering at the image. It’s her, hair mussed, shirt draped over her collarbones, her cheeks dusted with a vivid blush. Her lips stretched around him, the feeling of her hot little tongue twitching beneath his cock. And her eyes, soft, looking up at him.

She’s suddenly struck by how much he’s holding back from fucking up into her mouth and the ever-tight hand in her hair makes more sense.

“ _Rey_ ,” he says again, more ragged this time. Rey feels her fingertips go tingly with all of the power she’s suddenly wielding over him, her mind high on it. She lets out a soft gasp around his cock, humming with satisfaction.

He jerks suddenly in her mouth and groans and Rey takes this as her cue to start moving in earnest. His cock is slick with her spit now, which makes it easier. She can taste it when his slit spurts more precome, the particular twinge of it on the back of her throat.

And that seems to be the problem, because Rey can’t get her mouth to work down any farther, and she’s hardly even halfway down. Her eyes are starting to burn with effort and half little gags.

“You can,” he answers, breathless. “You can take it deeper, Rey.”

His hand cups the back of her skull and suddenly the overwhelming pressure makes her cry out as he works her mouth down over his cock. It’s too much, and she gags for breath, moaning around him as she shakes with effort.

He tenses and groans deeply and Rey feels another soft pool of precome slip down her throat.

She breathes out with a stutter and finds that she can— it’s not his whole length but it’s pretty damned close. She swallows repeatedly around him, blinking back tears. He hums down at her and starts muttering soft praises under his breath. “Good girl,” he pants, his hips moving beneath her. “Rey, sweetheart, you’re so good for me, sucking me off with your hot little mouth huh—“

Rey starts bobbing her head in time with the little jerks of his hips, the head of his cock never leaving her mouth entirely.

Her thighs are wet. Rey tries to squeeze her legs together but she’s so slick that it provides almost zero friction and she moans out of frustration, gasping wetly around his length. Ben’s close, she can tell—his whole body tightens up, his face screwed up with pleasure—

The first surprise spurt of come is bitter on her tongue and Rey tries to jerk back with a whimper, but his hand is still on the back of her head holding her in place.

“Swallow, little one, come on,” he groans out.

So she does, squeezing her eyes shut, choking on the thick liquid, feeling it move viscously on her tongue. His cock slides out of her mouth with a soft pop and Ben’s already dragging her up into his lap.

His hands come up to tilt her head back and up towards his face as if for inspection. Rey squirms, feeling some of his spend dribble from her mouth and down her chin as she gasps for air; his thumb comes up to push the errant string back into her mouth while she makes a noise of protest.

“ _Swallow_. _All_ of it.”

Rey shivers so violently at the command she nearly tumbles of of his lap while attempting to drink it all down, but he wraps one arm around her in the nick of time. His other thumb is still waiting just next to her lips to be cleaned

Rey flicks her eyes up to his as her tongue darts out to swipe at the come left on his thumb. He looks completely satisfied, like some king who’s thoroughly defiled a ransacked kingdom’s virginal princess. She sucks softly at the salty spend on his skin, but the distracting ache between her legs is persistent.

Her voice is hoarse and used when she finally catches her breath because the raging need is back. “Ben. _Please_ ,” she mumbles against his hand, eyes wet. “Wanna come.”

“I know,” he nuzzles at her jaw, letting the hand she’s just cleaned off drift between her legs, lazily watching her squirm at the first brush of his fingers at her swollen clit. “You were very good, Rey. Sweetheart, you got so _wet_ sucking my cock.”

She nods desperately, his hand between her legs electric, her body already tensed.

“ _Beeeeen_ ,” she whines, dragging out his name, clutching at him. He’s moving too slow and she’s _right_ there, she’s ready if he would just—

“Relax, Rey. I’ll make you come, just relax,” he says softly, sliding his fingers over the little bundle of nerves.

So she sobs with frustration and cants her hips but in the end he goes slowly, murmuring praise into her ear. “You already got fucked hard so many times today little one, you took it so well but  you’re so sore. We gotta be gentle, so you’ll come like this or not at all,” and _oh_ —

His thumb grinds down just as the orgasm rolls through her tightly wound body, and Rey cries his name as she shudders through the sharp sweetness of it.

* * *

 

Rey dozes for a little in his lap, too boneless to move enough though she’s sticky with sweat and her slick and his come. Ben seems content, sliding down a bit in the armchair and gently rubbing her back.

The bond is a soothing hum, like clear, pure ice, soothing Rey’s mind and trying to press it into a sleepy, satisfied state. It works away at the tiny chunks of her soul, moves languidly over her hurts.

“You can still come with me,” she murmurs, refusing to open her eyes to the eventual disappointment. “I wish you _would_.”

He hums beneath her, a sad sound.

She can feel the funny bits of his soul too, the ones that grate, that don’t make sense because his mind has been twisted by outside forces for too long. He’s resolved himself to love her, which she knows is true and yet—

He can’t. Not yet. He hasn’t proved himself.

But soon.

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ur fluffy, plot heavy stories are cute and all but I’m only capable of half assed filthy trash smut so please enjoy some inappropriate use of the force bond

When they wake up on the last day it feels wrong to let Rey roll out of his arms. He frowns at the loss of heat and softness he’d gotten used to holding at night, and something sharp roils in his ribs.

It takes him a minute to realize his heart is already grieving.

Kylo settles for watching her move barefoot around the room, shucking off his borrowed undershirt and pulling pieces of her flightsuit from the floor where they had been hastily abandoned three days prior.

She pauses in front of the mirror where she’s beginning to gather her hair up and catches him staring. She’s _beautiful_ , pulling her pretty brown hair out of her eyes, and it must show all over his stricken face.

She’s quiet—not timid, but rather contemplative—through breakfast before standing suddenly and muttering about preflight checks. The sun has barely risen outside, and Kylo watches, gripping the counter for support as she treks across dewy morning grass to her shuttle.

He already knows she’s not coming back to say goodbye.

* * *

 

 

It’s better to leave first, Rey decides. Better to not be left behind. She can’t do it again; watching his shuttle disappear into the blue sky would absolutely kill her. She would sink into the soft grass and never move again, turn into forgotten dust, and he would still leave her.

So Rey leaves first.

She hugs Finn tighter and longer than normal when she returns to the Resistance base. The admission of guilt is right on the tip of her tongue—and she knows ultimately Finn would always forgive her. Instead she swallows it.

“You must’ve been allergic to something on the rendezvous planet; you look terrible,” Finn announces.

Rey blinks at the welcome candidness. “Really?”

“You look like you’ve been crying—I look the same way if I roll around in around Corellian sea grass,” he answers, chucking his fist under her chin slightly.

General Organa is watching her from across the landing bay with a scary kind of concentration. Rey finds herself squirming under the older woman’s gaze. She can probably smell him on me, Rey thinks, heart beating faster. She’s all tainted with his mouth and his force signature tugging at hers even now, billions of miles away.

“Rey! Come on, you missed so much!”

Finn saves the day per usual, when he drags her away from the hangar out of the gaze of Kylo Ren’s mother. He announces they have plans for cups of caf at a corner table in the mess hall, Rose and Poe already seated and cheering playfully at her entrance. She grins at them and rushes over for a round of hugs and shoulder slaps, and she doesn’t think about Ben, not even once. And it’s only the third lie she tells herself that day.

* * *

 

She’s alone, stacking heavy supply boxes of old rations in the kitchens when it happens; it’s Ben, real and yet not, standing behind her with wide eyes.

She freezes, the box she’s been lifting with the force clattering to the ground with such a loud sound that Rey is sure someone is going come running around the corner with blasters drawn and questions asked later.

But nobody comes, and Rey is crossing the space between them in a second, drawn like a magnet or a little moon to circle him, craning her neck to look him in the eyes. She hasn’t seen in him weeks, for good reasons, she had assured herself.

“I _missed_ you,” he says, voice strained. He reaches out with one hand and tucks an errant lock of hair behind her ear and Rey nearly doubles over at the rush of heat in her stomach just from his hand brushing her cheek.

“You closed me off,” he continues. His voice is ancient with sadness, like he’s aged a century without her, and tinged with virulent accusation. Rey nods helplessly, closing her eyes.

For nearly a month now, she had smothered the part of him that lived in her head. Cornered it and threatened it until it stayed there, limp and bruised and afraid.

It had _hurt_.

 _You had to_ , he answers for her. Understanding and yet not, too busy feeling sorry for himself about her imposed denial of each other.

“Alright,” he whispers, nodding to himself and bringing his hands up to cradle her head, body heat radiating off of him like he’s really here. “It’s alright.”

Rey lifts a hand and locks the door to the supply closet with a wave of her fingers.

Ben’s hands are all over her in an instant; warm and rough with her skin. It’s like he’s taking stock of her limbs, making sure all the parts of her are still there. He drags her up to her toes in a bruising kiss and Rey pants desperate and wet into his mouth, tangling her fingers in his hair. He smells different from when he’d been in the little cabin; now he stinks of standard issue soap and detergent.

With their mouths slotted together Rey tastes caf—must be early morning wherever he is, which explains the lack of mask.

“Please,” Rey hiccups when he bends to mouth at her neck, too hot when he sucks at her skin and his spit too cold in the recycled air of the base.

He groans and crowds over her, walking them backwards to an empty shelf the height of his waist. “I know,” he soothes, pressing kisses against her cheekbones, against her damp eyelashes.

It’s not enough, even with his weight pressing her against the ledge; Rey struggles with her top, yanking at the fabric until it ungracefully bunches off of her head.

His hands cup the soft skin of her breasts, stroking his thumbs gently over the peaks. She pushes up into him and whines behind her teeth—she’s never felt this out of control before, like she’s going to die if he doesn’t touch her. It had been so long since they’d last done this, and Rey was so tired of using her own hands at night, a cheap comparison to his.

He lifts her up over the ledge so she can sit and then he moves in closer between her spread legs, grinding his thigh up against where her clit is covered by her leggings. He rakes his eyes over her with a singular kind of determination and encircles her waist with one his hands, the other at her neck, his fingertips pressing in like hot little points of fire.

“Let me _in_ , Rey,” his voice is gravelly and low with patience, and Rey trembles with it.

He’s already halfway back in her head; after all, he’s here, isn’t he? But he’s not satisfied—he wants to consume what he can and worship what’s left of her. He wants her to open back up the bond. He _wants_ her.

“I’ll let you come, Rey.”

 _Oh_ —Rey feels a near painful spike of arousal that makes her whimper and the corresponding soft drip of slick dampening her underwear.

She forces herself to move because her body demands it, but she ends up awkwardly bobbing her head somewhere between yes and no.

“Just for a little,” he reasons, his tone on edge, the hand on her waist dropping between her legs and tracing over leggings where her clit hides beneath. She realizes suddenly that he’s _terrified_ she’ll say no. Rey squeezes her eyes shut, her breath hitching.

Slowly, his hand slips beneath her waist band and when his searching fingers dip between the lips of her cunt: Rey chokes, because she’s so wet with anticipation that his thick middle finger just slips inside her with barely any resistance. The light pressure of it inside her makes her hips jump; Rey wants more, _more_ —

His thumb is feather light, just barely brushing the pad against the very top of her clit; it’s painfully sweet and makes her thighs twitch around him. Rey drags her tongue across her lips and opens her eyes to look up at him.

He looks like a wild thing, his hair sticking up at odd ends, his red mouth trembling. His eyes are gleaming in the dim light of the room. He looks scared of her, of this, and of the weight settled between their minds.

“Ben,” she mumbles, a soft surrender.

Rey lets his mind back in a half second later; he shudders and goes heavy on her for a second with a long sigh. His weight is crushes her back against the wall with a pleasant sort of squeeze. Rey drags in a breath at the overwhelming feeling of his consciousness slotting against hers; her skin feels every inch of air, every pinprick of matter pressed against her body.

He growls with renewed possessiveness, lifting himself up and pulling her with him by the hair to kiss her again; Rey melts against his chest as he works her mouth open and pliant. Rey had forgotten how intense it was; the twinned, echoing sensation of his pleasure sharp against her own.

His hands slip out of her leggings only to roll them halfway down her thighs; He moves to hook his fingers in her underwear before he stops and breaks apart their kiss to study her face.

“You’ll have to be quiet,” he says, his voice still in that same low, dangerous tremor that makes Rey keen. “Can you be quiet?”

She nods her head wordlessly. _See_?

“Good,” he answers, tugging at the last scrap of fabric between them. “Wouldn’t want the whole base to know you bend over and take Kylo Ren’s cock, hm?”

Rey gasps indignantly just as he lifts her off from the shelf and turns her around so she’s bent over it, her toes just scraping the ground. He presses a heavy hand down on the small of her back, forcing her to lower down so she’s bent at the waist. She snarls, opening her mouth to tell him to _Kriff off_ —

Rey’s not sure when he unzipped his trousers but his cock is nudging insistently at her entrance. He bends over her, his front to her back and presses her down until she’s flat against the cold metal, her breasts aching at the sensation.

“Work yourself back, sweetheart. I’m not gonna do all the heavy lifting.” As he says it, he lifts up slightly, one of his hands comes to gently tug her arms behind her back and hold her wrists there.

Rey screams inside her head; he’s barely given her any leverage like this and he knows it. He huffs in her ear, a hand tracing over the back of her neck.

Her toes search for purchase on the ground; she wiggles a bit beneath him until she finds it. Even so, he’s still so much taller than her that their hips don’t line up; his cock slides on the underside of her wet cunt and bumps at her backside.

She struggles, huffing for a few moments until he finally acquiesces and bends his knees slightly, pushing his cock a few inches deep inside her; Rey lets out a high-pitched noise at the stretch.

Ben hisses from behind her. “You’re still so tight, baby. You didn’t let anyone else touch my cunt, did you, sweet girl?”

Rey sobs— _of course not, kriffing idiot_ , she thinks loudly.

Rey slowly pushes her ass back against Ben’s hips and sighs; his cock is bottomed out, the burn of it intense without the usual long prep of his fingers. She squeezes down around him, blinking at the wall in front of her and wondering what she did to deserve something that felt that good, to feel so full and satisfied.

“Good Gods, Rey,” he mumbles softly. She sees it in his mind; his Jedi girl naked and bent over for him and keening with it, taking his length with a soft cry.

Rey grinds back against his hips, not quite enough purchase on the ground to bounce forward and back on his cock without slipping. The movement is a different kind of delicious, and Rey pants, pressing her cheek against the metal to cool her overheated face.

Ben hisses something scandalous in Huttese that makes Rey’s ears go red, but apparently she’s earned her keep—his hand curves over her hip and two fingers start pressing against her slick clit. Rey tilts her head back and _moans_ —

Ben slaps a hand over her mouth and wrenches her backwards so fast she squeaks, her back arching. His mouth presses to her shoulder, his thick hair tickling her back. His fingers pause over her cunt, and Rey sobs, trying to jerk her hips to find them.

“Gotta be _quiet_ , sweetheart. You told me you could.”

Rey nods eagerly, letting her tongue slide against his palm to taste his skin. He laughs and drags his wet hand down her chest to pinch a nipple, watching her as she keep her mouth shut, swallowing whimpers.

“Good girl,” he presses a kiss to her shoulder.

The angle, her back bent towards him now, is new when he pulls out and back in. Rey shudders when he slides against something sweet inside of her. His hand comes back up to cover her mouth, the other returning between her legs to work at her clit.

“Gonna fuck you now, Rey,” he gasps “You gotta take it—“ he cuts himself off with another quick thrust, and she hears him choke.

Ben starts moving and Rey’s eyes roll back; the sudden change in pace is too much. She’s going to come far too quickly and he’s going to get smug and _insufferable_ —

The door handle jiggles.

Rey’s eyes shoot open and frees and arm to slap Ben’s side sharply to get his attention. Her heart is thundering in her chest and Ben is not stopping.

The scrape of metal is loud as someone in the other side grunts and tries to open the supply room door and this is it, Rey’s going to get caught with her pants down metaphorically and physically oh _Kriff_ —

“Hush,” he whispers, fucking up into her, his hand clamped over her mouth and pressing her tighter against him. But he’s not exactly helping because his eager fingers are moving faster at her clit and she can feel the beginning of an orgasm a month in waiting.

There’s a loud bang as someone kicks the door; Rey bites down on his hand to keep from crying out but she can’t stop whimpering with each thrust. The sticky sound of his cock sliding into her wet cunt is too loud, they’re going to get caught—

“If you don’t keep quiet they’re gonna come in here and find you like this for me—“

His fingers grind her over the edge and Rey is thankful for the way she seizes up and goes quiet with only a sharp gasp; he works her over it and then some, pounding into her from behind until Rey begs him to stop in her head.

Whoever is on the other side of the door walks away, their footsteps echoing down the hall.

Rey sobs with relief, squirming beneath him, overstimulated and angry. He grips her waist so tight it’s going to bruise when he comes, wet heat pooling inside of her as she sighs.

Rey slides boneless over the shelf; Ben pulls out with a soft groan and soothes a hand over her back. He gently tugs her pants back on even as some of his come starts to drip out of her and down the inside of her thigh. She can feel that pleased creature in his heart that likes seeing her so owned, his touch soft as he watches her squirm at the cool sensation of her damp underwear.

He lifts her so she’s sitting on the ledge and slides her shirt back over her head, coaxing her arms through the sleeves and then gently combing her mussed hair into something that doesn’t resemble a recently-fucked style. Rey hums at the man handling; something guilty and sweet is thrumming across the bond she opened back up.

“Hmm,” he says softly, reaching up to tilt her head to the side and inspect the skin of her collarbone, just peaking out from her shirt. “Nothing we can do about those.”

Rey flicks her eyes to his, flashing in annoyance; in his head he’s looking at several obvious bruises, hickies, the other girls in the barracks called them. “You didn’t.”

He grins.

Someone tries the door handle again; Rey’s head flips to the side to blink as the heavy metal is scraped open to reveal the bright lights of the hallway and two Resistance soldiers. Her mouth opens in shock and horror to look back at Ben—

Who is very conveniently gone.

 

 

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What? I love garbage

Rey fights like a desert fox: hissing and spitting, all teeth and nails and dirty little tricks, yapping at his heels. She has climber’s feet; light, soundless steps that hardly touch the ground, bouncing on her toes. She’s got climber’s arms; bracing and brutal and scrappy.

Unlike an animal, she just can’t be cruel. She can’t skin him and mangle him the way she was born to. She feels his pain too deeply, inflicts it upon herself. Her steps stagger when she’s got her lightsaber at his neck, the ghost of regret on her face.

She cries sometimes about everything, huddled together to ward off the cold of space. She cries because there was never room for emotion on Jakku and now there’s too much and she’s not sure what to do with it.

Especially since her training with Skywalker, she’s gotten a larger range of emotion. Her new connection to every twinge of sorrow, the ever present strings that hold the universe together, reverberates deeply in her chest. She carries it, always. Now there’s too much time between being awake and asleep, stretched thin and aching.

Those are the nights he curls himself around her, squeezes her back against him and brushes her hair off her wet cheeks and tries to quiet her hiccuping cries if only for a few minutes.

It’s not enough because he has never been enough for anyone. But he tries—and that’s when she rolls over in his arms to face him and buries her head into his chest, entwining their limbs as closely as their minds are. He mumbles nonsense against the top of her head and guiltily imagines pretty golden crowns imbibed with kyber crystals atop her hair.

She falls asleep like that too many times, slowly blinking up at him and then suddenly too exhausted to do much else but yawn as he tucks her closer.

The force tugs her away gently as if she was never there at all, hissing at him and reminding him that it is all his fault.

* * *

 

Her fingers are small, entwined in his own. They’re warm from a half galaxy away. She smells like sea salt and her face is sticky with fruit juice.

“Will you tell me where you are?”

She smiles, but doesn’t look happy.

It must be sunny on whichever planet she’s taken as a temporary hide out. she’s down to just a sleeveless tunic and thin pants, her feet bare and sandy. She’s swinging them lazily from where she’s sitting.

“I’ll come alone,” he coaxes, tugging like a child on a wayward string sticking out from the hem of her top.

She grabs his hand and wraps her dainty fingers about his wrist. She’s built a new lightsaber, the handle dwarfed to fit properly in her small grip, weightless to accommodate her fighting style. The tan of her skin makes his own pallor look sickly when she brings his knuckles to her mouth and presses a soft kiss there.

“You have to stop that,” she says, inspecting the healing skin of his fingers. She had startled in his mind when he’d furiously destroyed a wall the other day, blind with rage.

She looks far older than her twenty years when she flicks her eyes up to his own—that ancient thing inside of her that recognized whatever was lurking in him too. It’s gone in an instant, back to whatever dimension it truly lives in.

It’s been replaced with Rey, insistently climbing into his lap and demanding urgent kisses.

“Ben,” she says over and over _and over_ —

* * *

 

“ _Kriff_ you—“ she snarls beneath him when he yanks off her leggings. “You stole the location out of my head, that’s _cheating_ you absolute—“

She’s cut off with a hitched noise when he solidly licks at the seam of her slit, her little hands fisting his hair. He presses her thighs apart as wide as she can manage, the stretch of it making her tense up.

“Are you really that mad?” He snickers against her skin. “You want this, it seemed cruel not to give it to you—“

“Switch off and make me come.”

He rolls his eyes. “You’ll have to ask nicer than that, dear.” He punctuates the line with another soft kiss on her hipbone.

It had taken him three days and one force choked-who-no-longer-asked-questions Hux to find her; a tropical hemisphere of a largely abandoned mining colony. It makes sense. She likes islands, and the heat, preening beneath the sun like a little flower.

She pants, her hips wiggling. Her hair is already a mess from where he’d run his hands through it, soft wisps of her baby hairs curling at her ears. He’d taken his time kissing her earlier, pulling her up against him while the sea had lapped at their ankles.

She tugs his hair trying to lead his mouth back. “Be nice?” She lilts breathlessly. “Pleeease?”

It’s been awhile since they’ve done this; the Resistance was fighting brutally to maintain a front in a middle core system and both him and Rey had full days before their minds collapsed together only to sleep.

He’d missed it—making her squirm, hearing those little noises. He noses at her clit. “Tell me, sweetheart.”

The implication was clear. He wants to hear how she ached for him, dreamed of his touch, thought of him too large and pressing her down.

She’s got her face screwed up, red face pinched with frustration. “Ben—“ she chokes out. “Ben, I want—“

She deserves to come, so he shows her, and she stretches out beneath him, unwinding slowly. The pitch of her voice goes higher and higher and the combination of her twitching and the ambient heat brings out a sheen of sweat on her forehead, the small of her back. Her hair sticks to the back of her neck, just as she tilts it back and his name rips from her mouth.

She twitches after she comes, pushing his head away and squeezing in on herself as if trying to capture the feeling and savor it.

“Rey,” he gasps, brow pinched with how desperate he is. She just nods back at him and spreads her legs.

It’s been too long, so she winces as the tip of his cock slides in. He croons in her ear to make up for it, but holds her hips down anyway. He’s kind to her in some other life, taking some other Rey, not hardened by her burdens, to bed sweet and slow.

This girl, his girl, blinks back tears and gasps when he slides the full way in; the burn grounds her, makes her know he’s real and that he would travel endlessly after her just for this moment. Her hands tug at his hair as he moves, urging him on even though she’s not quite ready.

Rey is too damned tiny; half starved on rations. Her hipbones are sharp against his belly, her waist too fragile under his hands. He watches, mesmerized at the slight bump beneath the skin of her abdomen that is undoubtedly his cock sheathed inside her.

“Faster,” she says in a small voice.

He snarls; he wants to own her but never will, too dependent on her every whim. Her legs curl around his waist, heels digging into his ass. “Fuck me—“ she hisses up at him—

He growls and flips her over before working back in; Rey pants, nowhere to go. He hovers over her, holding himself up with one arm, and grinds his hips sharply against her ass.

“Please please please—“ she chants, voice barely above a whisper. It’s not meant for him to hear. “Please come in me—“

He curses and bites her shoulder, dropping his forehead between her shoulder blades. Dirty girl. Still, he holds her hip in one bruising hand and fucks hard into her; he’s already feeling that deep pool of sharpness that means he’s close. “Louder,” he orders.

She goes quiet immediately, save for little whimpering noises.

“I said,” he growls out, furious and needy all at once, “louder, Rey.” He punctuates this by drawing out slow and hovering, feeling her clench hard around only the tip of his cock.

“Please,” she mumbles into her arm, attempting to work herself back. The sight of her little cunt swallowing his length makes him groan. “Please come in me, I want you to—“

He moves in earnest, probably hurting her where he’s pressing his weight down too sharply. He’s moving fast and deep, pounding into her, watching her take it. “Gonna fill you up, Sweetheart. Gonna fill you up with come, don’t worry—“

When he does come, it makes his head buzz, an endless and echoing _Rey is Mine_. He pulls out and rolls her over so he can watch his come leak out of her; he drags a lazy hand across her overstimulated clit and watches as she tries to jerk away. He holds her still and carefully dips a finger inside of her, pulling out when his finger is coated in spend.

He kneels above her and squeezes his fingertips into the hinge of her jaw until she opens; he pushes a messy digit into the wet heat of her mouth and lets it stay there until she’s lapped it clean.

They fall asleep curled over eachother, and Benjamin Solo dreams of two children with eyes like Rey’s, with his stuck-out ears. One has his curly knotted hair and the other has Luke Skywalker’s thick sandy-blonde waves. They run circles around one another, playing an endless game of tag in a snowy forest.

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FAIR WARNING!! this accidentally got kinda dubconish in the middle. Please read at your own risk. 
> 
> Also this is the usual I’m trash announcement, HAVE SOME THRONE ROOM SMUT
> 
> AND THANKS FOR 1000 KUDOS we’re gonna have a dumpster party

He’s small, wiggling into a sharp cave of metal where the others can’t reach, where the good stuff still lies. His cut and bleeding fingers pry out the intestines of a long dead ship: wires and buttons and circuit pathways and power converters. There’s sweat dripping into his eyes and it burns. He tries to wipe it with the cloth binding his arms, the fabric there to protect him from sunburn on the daily walk to and from the trading outpost.

The cloth is worse than useless, already damp with sweat, just smearing it deeper into his face. He tries to steady a breath in the heat, feeling panic spike in his throat, cloying and thick. The space he’s in is too small, all of a sudden, he can’t stretch his legs, and it hurts, it _hurts_ —

 _Wake up_ , he thinks desperately.

 _I can’t_ , she replies, helpless and terrorized.

That’s when the steelpeckers come; their razor sharp beaks tear at her skin, ripping her back to shreds where she’s crawling, belly down, back towards the hole she’d pried open.

She falls—

* * *

 

Rey jerks awake, heart pounding, adrenaline painful in her veins. A little, smaller version of her is screaming somewhere else in a different time; Rey remembers the sharp pain in her ankles breaking the fall as if it was a fresh injury. She’d nearly shattered both legs and died in the desert that day but that girl had endured, limping back to her home and licking her wounds, furious.

She rips off the blankets and touches the fragile bones of her ankles, letting out a dry sob when she sees they’re still intact.

 _You’re alright_ , he says, afraid of her for only a moment. _Just a dream_.

It’s a strange mirror of what had happened last week; he had dreamed of a time he’d nearly drowned in a lake in his youth and Rey had never been so terrified in her life. She had tried to scream, tried to push herself to the surface, but instead had swallowed a lungful of salt water, her body sluggish. _I don’t want to die like this_ , she’d yelled at him, thinking of the child in the desert. _I’m not supposed to die like this, surrounded by water_.

Rey lies back down against her mattress but it’s far too late; she’ll hardly be able to sleep now. Her memory of her near-death experience at the hands of those desert birds was a common nightmare and always rattled her. Instead, she stares at the ceiling and waits for him to say something.

The room shrinks like a vacuum—the pressure in Rey’s ears pops and when she opens her eyes again she can see him, as if he sits before her on the Resistance base she’s currently holed up in. The connection between them has only grown stronger as time passed; before she could only see him during these visits, but now the throne room he’s inhabiting is in clear view as if she truly stands in it.

The bare, laquered floor is cold on her bare feet as she steps forward. He’s lounging in the lone, high-backed chair, resting his chin on one hand. He looks like a jungle cat after a long meal, lazy and predatory.

“Is anyone else here?”

“Mhm,” He rumbles low, subtle, never letting his gaze leave hers.

Rey turns around just before the dias he occupies to squint at the surroundings; the details are fuzzy at first, before solidifying out of smoke, a glimmering mirage.

It’s Hux and a retinue of other officials, droning about finances. Kylo is hardly listening, all of his intensity focused on her in her pajamas.

Rey wraps her arms around herself, shivering. She slowly turns to face him again with a raised eyebrow. He moves only slightly in response, twitching the hand resting on his knee by crooking two fingers, beckoning her forward.

 _Cold_? He asks conversationally in her head. Rey twitches at the odd echo ringing between their consciousnesses before nodding and crossing the distance between them.

She slides into his lap feeling a strange, heated thrill when she settles her weight across his thighs. She looks down at Hux, and smiles at the indecent humor of it all. If only the redhead had even an _inkling_ of what sat before him.

Kylo shifts slightly to accommodate her weight, sliding a large hand around to cup her hip and squeeze her thigh. He’s warm, despite the true distance between them.

He wraps one thick forearm around her waist, holding her back against him, and Rey lets out a soft, soothed sound, tilting her head to the side to bare her neck, shivering at the vulnerability of it.

“Leave,” Kylo barks, everyone in the room jerking in surprise. Hux’s eyes widen with indignation. The red headed man sputters, shoulders hunching with irritation.

“We are in the middle of our second quarter analysis, Supreme Leader—“

“It was not a request, General.” The voice in Rey’s ear is dark and loaded with violence skimming the surface of it; Kylo’s force signature skittering with rage.

The door closes with a loud, grating sound behind the small group of officers, frankly most of which looked relieved to be out of Kylo’s presence. It’s half a second later that he mouths at her neck, scraping his teeth against her skin and then licking the same spot roughly with his tongue.

“You’re very disruptive,” he mutters, pulling at the hem of her shirt so it tangles in her arms above her head. She hisses at the first contact of his leather gloves on her breasts, kneading hard, a half step away from pain.

“Couldn’t sleep—“ she tries to explain. “Wanted to see what you were up to.” What she really wants is for a different life where Ben wraps her up in his arms in that little cottage on the lake, kissing her softly until she forgets her name and her nightmare. She’ll have to settle for this, apparently. Not so bad, when the ruler of the galaxy seems intent on throughly defiling you.

Rey arcs back against him as his clever fingers yank at her hair, one hand skimming her nipples. “Still,” he continues, “sitting on my lap, in my _throne_ , Rey—“

He cuts himself off because the spike of lust he feels makes both of them nearly go blind; the idea of her at his side so enamors him his hips jerk beneath her at the mere thought.

Images flash though his mind; Rey goes pink suddenly because _good lord_ , apparently he’s imagined this a _lot_. Different versions of her flicker past, all of them in dizzying stages of lust, all involving the very throne they’re sitting on.

He curses and hunches over, bearing his weight down on her. Rey squirms—it’s too much, the pressure of his mind and the burn in her belly, the squeeze of his limbs.

He stands suddenly, and Rey slides out of his lap with a disgruntled noise to land in the too-large throne. She feels very small, with him towering over her; he plants his hands on either arm rest and just snarls in her face for a second like an animal.

Rey looks back at him calmly. Until, of course, his hand shoots out to hook under her jaw and jerk her head up at a painful angle, grinding her skull against the back of the chair.

“I should have you collared at my _feet_ ,” he hisses, gloved fingers pressing in hard against the sides of her throat. Rey can’t think, her mind too white hot to even attempt to pull apart and explain what she’s feeling. She squirms, testing his resolve, but his hand holds firm.

“You’re just a foolish little girl—“ he comes closer, nipping at her mouth. “But you’re mine, Rey. To do with as I please, hm?”

It’s true—it has that strange crystal blue thrum behind it that Rey only hears when people are brutally honest with themselves and with the universe.

How _long_ exactly has it been true?

She blinks back hot tears and hates him, _viciously_ , setting fire to whatever it is that connects them. But his mind is too intense, too absolutely sure in its conviction; it swarms and smothers her attack.

He yanks off her pants and her underwear with it before dropping to the ground. The dissonance of his heady power over her and the image of him kneeling before her is confusing. His palms spread her thighs and he licks, too fast and imprecise at her center. It’s infuriating, and no matter how she tugs at his wild hair he doesn’t change to the rhythmic tempo she likes, the one that makes her come softly then all at once.

“Please,” she gasps out, surely unable to take more, “please— Kylo—“

She chokes out his name and schools her mind: it’s only a sound, syllables, not a submission. But it tugs at him in a way she can’t describe, that second name she hasn’t called him in so long.

He slides two fingers into her and curves them up in a delicious way that has Rey rubbing the small of her back against the throne, tipping her cries up and faster. Kylo flicks his tongue against her almost vengefully— he’s only making her come because he wants to ruin her in his throne, own her in a way she can’t erase or shower away. His pet to play with, to touch as he sees fit.

Rey feels like she’s got heatstroke—her skin burns and she’s wound too tight, and his mouth is too sweet exactly where she needs it; she rocks forward with a keening noise, and he pushes in a third gloved finger. The sensation is too velvety and yet still the stretch burns her, too much _too much_ —

His free hand gags her mouth just as she comes; pressing in two fingers against the flat of her tongue. Rey is forced to cry aloud rather than muffled into her shoulder; her ears burn at the sound echoing in the lacquered cavern.

She’s a panting, quivering mess but he picks her up anyways and arranges her how he likes, splayed across his lap when he sits back down. He pets a wet hand across her cheek and Rey feels something akin to humiliation tamp against her ribs—

But then he hushes her and soothes a hand down her spine and she can only blink at the comforting gesture. Rey nods at nothing into his shoulder, while he croons praise into her ear. She shakily wraps her skinny arms around his neck, trying to melt into him if only to avoid everything else for awhile.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” He whispers, kissing her cheek. “Want you like that all the time, Rey, whining and wet for your Emperor—“

Rey startles at the dark tone in his voice, but he clutches at her like iron even as she struggles to put space between them. His trousers are undone, she realizes bleakly. His cock, leaking pearly liquid from the tip, nudges softly at her already aching cunt.

“Settle down,” he orders, referring to her quick, panicked breaths. It’s been too long since she’s fucked Kylo Ren and now it stings, like acid in comparison to her memories of Ben that she wants to treasure, no, _no_ —

Before she can even whimper a protest he’s pushing her hips down; a groan slips out of him as he tilts his head back and Rey keens, scrabbling at his chest.

She pants, trying to find some aspect of herself to cling to in the wildfire that is Kylo, but the feeling of him inside her is everything; all sensation whittled down to a sharp point. “How’s it feel, little one?” he pants, trembling with it.

Rey squeezes her eyes shut and closes her mouth, too embarrassed to answer. He growls and jostles her lower until she squeaks at the stretch. “Good!” She yelps, bending to his will. “Ah! Good, _Kriff_ —“

Her thighs strain like this, wanting to weaken and settle her full weight over his hips; when no more of his cock is left for her to take she leans forward and collapses against him, squeezing his shoulders between her fingers, trying to pinch him if only to convey some of the intensity of getting fucked onto him.

“Go on,” he stutters, squeezing at her waist until she makes a sound. Rey doesn’t understand at first, blinking wetly at him—

 _Oh_. That had been one of his fantasies from earlier; she sees it now and it turns her face scarlet. He wants her to ride him, bounce on his cock and scream his name at the very center of his power. She shudders with delight, clenching down hard enough to make him groan.

She’s not sure how to go about it; the first slide feels good but Rey struggles to find a rhythm above him, hands digging into his shoulders for leverage. Instead it becomes a strange tease—she works too slowly to get either of them off, only enough to make them both hyper aware of her sliding down her slick heat over every ridge of his cock.

It doesn’t help that her thighs are useless; still quivering from earlier. Still, she’s faced worse aches so she tilts her hips forward—

 _That’s_ it. Rey gasps, all of her nerves alight; she needs more, and suddenly it clicks, the bounce of her on his lap, the movement she wants more of. She feels giddy at the control of it, chases it until she’s properly riding him, fucking herself down.

Kylo is twisting beneath her, spreading his legs wider and trying to slam his hips upwards; when he manages it, his cock grinds deeply into her, enough to make both of them sigh.

He winds a hand into her hair and pulls tight with a fist until she cries out. “Don’t you dare stop—“ he hisses, all teeth at her neck—“Until I tell you to, Rey.”

She can’t answer, too tangled with lust, needy and open with it. Instead she makes a little, soft sound that comes out a lot like “Yes, Yes—Emperor— _Mast_ —“

He comes with a sharp grunt before she can even finish the word, slamming up into her and cutting her off; he holds her there for a few more thrusts while his cock twitches within her. Rey sobs at the feeling of his come filling her up, too hot and filthy. He ducks his head into the junction of her shoulder, presumably to avoid talking about exactly what had tipped him over.

He collects her boneless in his lap after, wet and dripping his come between her thighs. Rey whimpers as he smooths a hand over her hair, tucking it back behind her ears and wrapping his arms around her. Rey snuffles, nosing into his neck, blinking sleepily. The cold is starting to seep in now that she’s no longer moving— she shudders as the cool of his gloved hands trace soft patterns into her spine.

He presses his lips to her forehead in a kind gesture, so at odds with the earlier treatment it makes Rey’s ribs burn. She leans back, wiping traitorous tears off her cheeks to look him in the eyes— he looks still half-possessed, his hair sticking up like a gnarled mess.

“Hux is going to wonder what you were doing,” she points out, reaching with one hand to flatten a few strands down.

He tugs her wrist to his mouth and presses a kiss to the soft skin there. The scars from the steelpeckers’s beaks—the ones from her nightmare—are still there, Rey registers with a pang. He kisses those too, slow and gentle until she sighs and curls up with her head against his chest.

She falls into a dreamless sleep, and wakes up alone.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok I know she should be calling him supreme leader but that seems more complicated to yell while getting fucked so I stuck with emperor. Also I feel like he’d prefer that anyway, smug bastard


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> rough month for me irl but this chapter has been sitting in my brain and needed to be written. Thanks for sticking around :)
> 
> Fair warning but there’s....actually no smut in this one it’s a fucking miracle

He’s playing with her hair; pulling the strands taut and rubbing them between his fingers, carding his fingers at her scalp.

Rey decides to blame her touch-starved childhood for how she’s so attuned to the way his hands feel, even just brushing near her neck, the way her heart jumps into her throat at the sensation.

“Skittermouse,” he mutters, lips brushing her shoulder. She can hear him reluctantly smiling. “You really like this, don’t you?” He can probably tell from the way she’s arching back towards him, from how the bond thrums like starlight when he touches her, from the want ringing in her skull that no doubt echoes in his own.

“Mhm,” is all she answers. It’s too early to talk; the first rays of sun are only just peeking through her slatted blinds.

“Your hair is pretty,” he says, so quietly that it’s mostly to himself. Rey blushes nonetheless, curling into the rough-hewn blanket.

His hands gently twist a small lock; when Rey sits up to roll over, she realizes he’s braided a section when it lays heavy against her cheek.

He’s warm where they’re pressed together; Rey seeks it out, winding her smaller limbs into his own. His arm curls over her back to cup her shoulder, tugging her flush against his chest.

They’re both clothed which is unusual for the current proximity. Rey doesn’t mind; it makes the careful skim of her fingers beneath the hem of his sleep shirt more exciting, like a secret.

She presses sleepy fingers into the ridges of muscle on his stomach; he hums back, flexing and relaxing.

“Stop that,” he grunts, reaching down to grab blindly for her wrist.

Rey grins into his collarbone. “Kylo Ren, are you ticklish?”

She gets a few more gentle scrapes with her fingernails before he loses patience and flips her on her back. Rey shrieks, happy to squirm beneath him and try to wrestle her hands back to his trim waist.

He huffs a laugh—a real one, not smug, or sarcastic, but a real true laugh that sounds like pure joy. Rey startles at the sound, eyes wide but he hardly notices, too busy with an onslaught of kisses beneath her jaw.

Her alarm goes off with a shrill noise; Kylo force pushes the device across the room so it smacks into the wall and dies with a valiant last beep.

“I have to get up—“ she grins up at him where he’s got her pinned beneath him.

“Not yet,” He rasps into her ear, the strange, desperate part of him getting tense, winding tight. “Please.”

* * *

 

“You seem distracted.”

Rey jerks, nearly slamming her forehead into the bulkhead of the ship she’s working on.

“Ow,” she mumbles, emerging from the guts of the engine room. “You scared the bantha out of me, Finn.”

“I’ve been standing here for like, two minutes, calling your name. What else do you need?” Finn has a silly smile on his face, his tone teasing. He offers a hand to haul her up, which Rey gladly grasps.

 _Because I’m accustomed to a different voice calling my name_ , she thinks guiltily.

She’d been agonizing over it all morning with an ache between her thighs. She’d spent the morning pressed against the mattress with _him_ —the _Supreme Leader._

They’d fallen into this dirty habit; appearing to each other in the quiet moments removed from everything else. Rey could feel it, each act razor sharp in the part of her heart that held every person in the Resistance dear. That wound ran _deep_. But it was addicting; the inexplicable heat that swarmed when he was in reach, the tug of something inside both of them. It was like trying to resist a durasteel teather; her hands would be on him as quick as they could, her chest empty when he left and she remained with the memory.

“Listen, lets grab some stuff from the mess and take a cruise on the speeders. There’s a waterfall not too far from here, I know you’ll like it—“

“Young man, you better not be suggesting the theft of resistance supplies.”

Both of them turn to regard General Organa like chastitized children. Finn smiles sheepishly. “Only for a little. And I’ll bring her back, General.”

The older woman smiles, and for once it reaches her eyes. “I believe the strategy council is looking for you in the third floor conference room, Finn.”

Finn says his good-byes and promises to find Rey later, leaving them alone in the hangar. Then it’s just her and Ben Solo’s mother, an aching silence shaped like Kylo Ren between them.

Rey looks anywhere but her; her shoes suddenly become absolutely fascinating, as does a spec of grease on the floor.

“I’m not looking to be cruel,” she starts diplomatically. “But as I’m sure you’re aware, I’m a bit curious as to why I keep feeling my son’s force signature like a ghost wrapped around yours.”

Rey sighs dejectedly. “This has been a long time coming, hasn’t it?” She mutters to herself.

Leia looks kindly up at her. “Why don’t you sit? Might be easier.”

Rey does, sliding to the floor and pulling her knees to her chest, wrapping herself in a mock-hug. “I don’t—I don’t _know_ how to do this—and I don’t—“ Rey blinks, humiliated as her vision blurs with tears. “I don’t want to hurt anyone, especially _you_.”

Leia lets out a wet laugh and puts a hand on her shoulder, squeezing for comfort though Rey privately thinks she doesn’t deserve it. “Rey, I _really_ don’t think learning that my son is in love could _hurt_ me.”

Rey jerks and blinks up at her. Love? Was it supposed to feel like this? So painful and gouging and tearing at her heart, burning her marrow?

Then again, that was all she’d ever known; the ache of being left behind, of being ripped and torn up, only to treasure the memory of people she’d loved. Maybe it was supposed to feel like wildfire; all consuming pain.

So Rey cries and tells her about the Force Bond, about how Ben Solo laughed this morning and braided her hair and kissed her so gently she almost fell back asleep.

__

* * *

 

Hux is droning on about the morning’s dossier and Kylo makes it about two minutes before he stops paying attention completely. It’s a new personal record but Kylo has a feeling Hux wouldn’t  appreciate the fact.

Instead he daydreams about Rey; in warm grey robes, using the force like a vengeful Valkyrie, of Rey sleepy and disheveled, snoring into her pillow. If she could just see that the Resistance was a lost cause—if she would just come to him and lay herself bare and willing, he could teach her so much. And she would still ground him in the light, endlessly capable.

“—the recon report has cornered them in the Moskva Ring, we hope to confirm the General’s location within the next day cycle—“

Kylo does not let himself startle at the mention of his mother but it’s a damn near thing. And Organa—Organa means Rey.

* * *

  
The TIE fighters streak like blaster shots across the sky, hurtling towards their location; the tiny black dots grow on the horizon as they come closer, several larger ships holding the ground troops in tow. Rey is mesmerized by it— feels something trapping her in this moment. For what?

“Rey!” It’s Finn screaming her name and barreling towards her across the hangar, waving his arms erratically. “What are you doing? We have to go—“ he’s cut off by the sound of a distant explosion, likely an attack on the base’s perimeter shield.

“I didn’t know they were coming,” she rasps at him. “Finn, he didn’t even warn me.”

The realization cuts her like a knife; Finn is too distracted to make sense of what she’s saying. He’s already half dragging her to the transport, hands propelling her forward.

A brigade of stormtroopers flush out the last of the Resistance from the base, led by the harsh chrome form of Phasma. Behind her are two figures in black among a sea of white.

Rey snarls, a guttural and primitive sound, already feeling the slap of her lightsaber into her palm. When it ignites the smell of ozone and vaporized air hits her nostrils; it comforts her. She’s not defenseless; far from it.

“ _Go_!” She howls at Finn, who is already insisting he stay by her side. She shoves him with the force a few steps back as he shakes his head.

“I’ll be fine, Finn _please_ —“ and her voice cracks when she stares into his warm eyes filled with the kind of fear that comes from losing someone they love. “Go to the General, she can explain—“

“Explain what?” He chokes out. “You don’t have to explain anything, Rey, I’m gonna stay with you—“

They’re interrupted by a blast of cannon fire; for a moment Rey’s world shrinks down to the ringing in her ears, a horrid vibrato of slicing danger. She coughs up debris and pulls herself up from where she’s been thrown and screams for Finn.

He’s already standing—albeit on the other side of a fresh crater in the hangar. Hissing electrical cables swing in the air, spitting sparks— Rey remembers her lightsaber—

She rolls over to start a panicked search for her weapon—

It’s already in _his_ hand.

He’s standing over her, his face inscrutable, dressed in all black. His face keeps twitching between fury and something— _something_ like—

Rey feels frozen, her legs dangling uselessly when he hauls her up by the back of her shirt to stand just in front of him. He tucks her against his chest, a solid weight at her back, and Rey feels it like lightning in the connection they share. For a moment, she has the intense feeling of deja vu—something clicks in her mind, remembering the throne room, when they had stood together, completely invincible.

Rey feels bile rise in her throat because how they’re standing now feels wrong and sour, even in the bond. It’s an acute wound. The force flinches around them, ill and anxious. Rey feels a dry sob leave her throat in response to the cloying feeling of sickness.

The last thing she sees is Finn’s look of horror before something pulls like a veil over her consciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find MORE of this trash on tumblr @toutlevin


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 911? I think I’m having a.....”feeling””””?
> 
> I moved last week so I had to take a quick hiatus! But I’m back :)

When she wakes, it all comes back in soft waves, the feeling of her corporal body. She feels vaguely like perhaps she’s had too much spice water or Corellian whiskey; her head is pounding at a specific point in her temple that makes her groan and try to curl up. Rey feels like a hairline fracture, thin as a slice of glass and sharp at the edges.

 

_Maybe if you didn’t resist so damn hard—_

 

Her eyes snap open as she growls at the other masculine voice in her head, sitting up even as her vision spins. He’s the first thing in her eyeline, sitting in a chair across from where she’d been laying on some sort of couch in a dimly lit room.

 

“You—“ she spits, shaking with rage. “You knocked me out, you dirty, cheating, _scoundrel_ —“

 

Kylo has the audacity to roll his eyes. “Choose your words carefully. I might live up to Han Solo’s reputation if you go much further—“

 

Rey feels rage bubble up inside her chest at the mention of the older man, and she launches herself at him. Or attempts to; the moment her foot lands on the ground, ripe to push off and jump within reach to strangle him, her calf gives out and Rey just flops to the floor with a humiliating, anti-climactic thump.

 

She hisses and curls up, wincing at her rolled ankle. Apparently her balance after being forcibly put to sleep wasn’t quite up to par. It didn’t help that he suddenly swarmed over her with concern; Rey’s arms fly out to try and shove at him but he simply grunts, rolling her on her back and trapping her wrists down near her head, crouching over her.

 

“I had to.”

 

“You _had_ to.” She repeats, voice sardonic.

 

He’s grinding his teeth, a point of tension flicking in his jaw. “You wouldn’t have won that fight, Rey.”

 

She sees it in his head—the panic when she had ignited her lightsaber; she’s surrounded by an envoy of the most dangerous deathtroopers in the galaxy and outnumbered nearly fifty to one. He had snarled the command to stand down. The girl is mine. _Mineminemine_.

 

“We’ll never know, now will we?” she bites out in the most poisonous tone she can manage, desperate to hurt him the way he’s hurt her.

 

Something strange flashes in his head—for a moment she sees his mind, so sure and resolute. He thinks she could have done it, left to her own devices. He thinks the world of her, after all. But he had been deeply terrified of even the slimmest chance of losing her. Panic cloying in his bloodstream.

 

“You do realize you were already significantly injured—you’d been hit with shrapnel in that blast and you were in shock. How do you think I managed to put you under?”

 

Rey blinks—she doesn’t quite remember that initially, but it comes to her now. She’d been too distracted with trying to find Finn to even take stock of her injuries after being sent flying back to grind against the hangar floor. Her brain had barely registered pain, moving too quickly in survival mode to acknowledge it.

 

She looks down, finally registering her throbbing left leg—part of her pants had been torn at the knee to accommodate what looked like a fresh bacta over a deep wound wrapped around her shin. She’s still covered in dust and debris for the most part, and the realization makes her feel dirty for once.

 

He lets go of one wrist and sits up, giving both of them space. “Shower first, then you should eat.”

 

Rey can’t stop staring at her leg. “And then?” There was a myriad of possibilities, most of them ending with her dead—after all, she’s currently at the mercy of the First Order, sitting defenseless on the flagship.

 

He’s quiet, jaw ticking again, his grip on her one wrist twitching. He hadn’t quite thought this out, apparently. “We can discuss it later, Rey. _Please_.”

She snorts. “What, like we discussed you dragging me here?” She barely gets the sentence out before regretting it, watching his expression twist into self-inflicted pain and guilt. Rey knows first hand the self-flagellation that comes with being reckless and stupid. 

She sighs. A shower seems like a lot to ask; her body feels wrecked. Laying here on the floor felt like all she could do for now, but peeling out of her filthy clothes and letting water pound her back sounds like the stuff of Jakku’s many scavengers prayers. To refuse feels like death without honor.

 

She bites her tongue, deciding it can’t do much harm,and nods carefully, refusing to look him in the eyes. “Can...can you help?” Her voice has gone dry and scratchy. She can feel her eyelashes dampening, and humiliation crawls in her bones at the thought of asking him for assistance, but. She’s just so tired, and this ship is strange, and there’s not a soul on board who could sympathize with her.

 

“Hey,” his voice is whisper soft. “Everything will be fine. I’m here.” He’s suddenly leaning over her, his lanky hair falling into his eyes. His thumb brushes against the inside of her wrist rhythmically where he still hasn’t let go.

 

“No,” she burbles, unable to look at him. “Ben, it _hurts_ —“ all of it. Everything hurts, and suddenly Rey realizes she’s shaking.

 

He pulls her into his lap with a soothing noise, careful of her wound. Rey ducks her head beneath his chin, eager to be wrapped up in him even though her brain howls at her for it.

 

“You need to calm down,” he murmurs into her hair.

 

“What are we going to _do_ —“ she whispers, voice raw. That singular question that’s been haunting them, sitting thick and dark over their heads.

 

She stares numbly at her own fingers wrapped around his arm—they’re white with tension, looking strange against the black fabric of his tunic. She feels him shake his head, his lips brushing her ear. “I don’t know,” he says, so painfully quiet. “I _need_ you— so badly, sometimes.”

 

Somewhere along the way, Rey has started needing him too. She’s exhausted from twenty years of sorrow and an lifetime of aching loneliness. It hurts her chest, constricts her bones, and it’s too easy to lean on him when he pulls her weight up and carefully walks her to the fresher. Nobody has ever treated Rey like she was made of something precious—not the same way he does, as if he’s terrified of hurting her.

 

The shower is relatively close quarters, but it has a bench built into the wall. His mind flutters weakly at a memory of himself, after a round of teachings bestowed by Snoke, sitting in that very spot soaked in blood. Rey winces when she sees herself now in his mind, looking just as broken and small.

 

He peels off her clothing perfunctorily, pausing only to frown at the way her hipbones stick out. His hand encompasses her belly for a brief moment before sliding her shirt over her head, mindful of a graze on her neck. He pushes her beneath the spray of water, and she watches him strip and get in, sliding the door closed behind him.

 

The water is blessedly warm but not boiling, and Rey blinks as she feels the sting against her scrapes and bruises. Pink circles the drain, and for a moment Rey wants to lie down in that half inch of water and wait for it to clog her lungs until she can finally, truly rest.

 

Something rumbles inside her at that, resistant, and instead she lifts her head and opens her mouth at the spray. The warm water settles in the back of her throat, where she swallows to her heart’s content. When she’s had her fill, she blinks the water from her lashes and peers back at him—he’s watching her carefully, his eyes liquid this close. They’re already standing just bare inches apart, but now he comes closer, until Rey feels the press of his skin against her own, made slick from the water.

 

He’s hovering over her, his large palm reaching up to cup her jaw and smooth circles into her temples, trying to work the headache out. His skin is cool in comparison to the water, and it’s kind through the heat of the steam now making her sweat.

 

His mind is preening, clinging to the heady desire to take care of her. He’s greedy, in his head, thinking of all the ways he’ll keep her happy and saited now that he has her here. His spine trembles with the pleasure of knowing he’s going to put her in bed, where she’ll be safe and soft and warm, where he can watch her sleep and make sure she’s alright.

 

“I am _not_ safe here—“ she starts, growling at him. He frowns and pulls back, shaking his head.

 

“This is the only way I won’t have to worry about you,” he nods to himself, pressing his hands on her shoulders and forcing her to sit down on the bench. “This is the only way, Rey.”

 

“I’ll escape,” she hisses, squirming. He’s kneeling down on the floor in front of her, nudging her knees apart with his too-large hands. She resists for only a moment before he gives her a strangely stern look, and Rey swallows, parting her legs for him.

 

“I don’t doubt that,” he murmurs against her inner thigh, content to simply stare at the bare apex of her legs. He slides a hand up to the very top of one thigh, letting his thumb brush against her center before tugging the lips of her cunt open.

 

Rey gasps and squeezes her eyes shut, unable to keep still. She weaves a hand into his soaked hair, coaxing him on. Infuriatingly, he just hums, gently tracing the pad of this thumb over her clit in an impossibly slow, slick stroke, setting every inch of her on fire.

 

She makes a high keening noise, her whole body twitching. Why can’t he ever just make her come? He likes to watch, likes it when she’s sweet and desperate and gagging for him.

 

“Please,” she whimpers, wiggling lower, scooting towards his mouth. His eyes flick up to hers, too intense, and Rey feels her resolve crumble. She wants to be at the center of that—of whatever he is. How intoxicating it is to be the singularity of his attention, how time feels warped when they bounce off each other like this.

 

“Please _pleasepleaseplease_ -“ she feels the tears gathering in the corner of her eyes from frustration, from having him so close. And then—oh—

 

His mouth is ridiculously hot against her, where his tongue presses a firm lick from her entrance to the top of her throbbing clit. It’s nearly burning in comparison to the shower and the tile beneath her, and it makes her jerk her hips up because it’s too perfect.

 

“That’s it,” he mutters, leaning back only to situate himself closer, the angle easier on his neck where he’s hunched at her feet. His hands come up to grip her waist, to squeeze her and hold her still, and Rey shudders at the firmness of the feeling.

 

“Oh god-“ is all she can choke out when he starts moving in earnest, long strokes right over where she needs them. Rey feels like every part of her being has condensed down, made too tight. Her hands flutter against his scalp as she blinks at the ceiling tiles. This is wrong, not the right time for sex, and there’s a thousand reasons why she should just knock him on his ass instead. She knows, knows in her heart that this is bad for her—

 

And _yet_ —

 

Her muscles tense up and her calf is still throbbing, but the sharpness of it is clouded by the singlemindedness of sensation at her center. Rey just wants to feel good again, and this part is uncomplicated. The only uncomplicated part, really. It’s easier to feel fire in her stomach when she looks at the veins in his forearms, the broad masculinity in his shoulders. How warm his skin is where he’s holding her still.

 

She gasps at a particular lick that hits just the right way, her heel kicking into his shoulder blade. She should strangle him—

 

“I love you,” he murmurs, and Rey blinks back water from the corner of her eyes.

 

“Shut up,” she hisses, but it’s got no intent behind it. She wants, needs, to hear it a thousand times over, every day until she’s deaf and blind with age, because she knows it’s true. “Shut _up_ , Ben.” Her vision blurs, watery and unrefined. She’s so tired of this.

 

“No, _listen_ ,” he growls back, letting his thumb rub across her clit, making her squirm and pant for it in the steamed air around them. “I—“

 

“I _know_ , damn it,” she replies with a gasp, feeling miserable as a weight drops into her stomach, “Now shut up—“

 

The force glimmers, because in her head, in that uncomplicated part of her feeling for him, she says it _back_. It’s simple, because she does love him. There’s a deep part of her heart carved out for a lot of people. And he’s there, too, his rare, awkward smile and his constant, deep care for her. He understands her, wants to protect her from the universe in the way she wants to protect him too. The universe with him is less lonely—she knows he would die for her, at her feet. But what kind of a love is that?

 

She’s just addicted to it, the way he balances her. The dark that leaks from him finds the nooks in her soul, makes her feel like a whole instead of a half. It’s a heady feeling, to be so complete. To be _wanted_.

 

She whines when he manages to push two fingers inside of her, curling them up and making her feel every inch when he slides the pads of his fingers hard against the firm spot inside of her, the one that’s delicious and _good_. He nudges them ridiculously deep, his other hand coming up to pull back the hood of her clit, exposing more nerves for his tongue to the point of almost being too much. Rey’s head hits the tiles and she shudders as he sucks and licks, soft and perfect, urging her on, pushing her right up to the edge. _Perfect_ , he thinks. _She’s_ so _perfect_.

 

Rey clenches her teeth when she comes, pulling his hair tight enough that he winces. He presses his cheek to her thigh and watches, his eyes flicking from her scrunched face as she chases the feeling, to her clenching cunt around his thick fingers.

 

Rey slumps back slightly, exhausted when he draws his fingers out of her, licks them clean. Her thighs are quivering now, and she just wants to rest. She can untangle this if she just _sleeps_.

 

Instead, he untangles it for her.

 

“I want to leave,” he nuzzles into her thigh. “I want to leave with you, sweetheart.”

 

“You say that,” she whispers back. “You say that _all the time_ , in your head when you think I don’t hear it. You never do it. You never follow me.” You love me, but not enough, she thinks. The way it’s always been for her. Rey, the little girl on the cusp of being worthy.

 

“I’m going to,” He lurches up on his knees and kisses her cheek, his lips soft. Rey blinks in surprise, frozen with shock. “Tomorrow. I swear it. I’m ” He pauses. “If you still want me—“

 

She surges up, throwing her arms around his neck. Rey doesn’t dare speak, too afraid he’ll take it back. She thinks of Naboo, where the wind was warm and his eyes were so brown, the crease in his temple gone. Where he had tickled her for the fun of it, just to see her smile. Like she was _everything_.

 

“You _are_ ,” he murmurs into her wet hair, the words nearly obscured by the sound of running water. “Always. I can’t keep living without you—it’s _so_ —I _can’t_ ,” His shoulder drop and his voice cracks. “I know you hate me as much as you love me, but I swear to you, I’ll give you every second of the rest of my life if you want me. Just. Please. _Please_ , Rey. I don’t care anymore, about any of it. I can’t hurt you over and over again. I just know that I love you—“ he’s shaking, trying to hold her back but the strain in his arms is too much.

 

She nods, leaning back and cupping his cheek. Pressing feathery kisses against his jaw. Smiling because her heart is swollen. She thinks so, so _loudly_ the way she loves him, wants him. She doesn’t speak it into existence, still so terrified of disappointment, the cruelness of trusting.

 

“I’ll prove it,” he whispers. “I’ll never let you be afraid again.”

 

They curl up in his bed, the blankets pulled over their heads like children, and whisper into the dark until morning.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Harass me on tumblr @toutlevin you FOOLS


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